


Learning to Live Without You

by BobsBurgersStories



Category: Bob's Burgers (Cartoon)
Genre: Child Death, Child Loss, Coping, Family Loss, Fights, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Mild Language, Pain, Triggers, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Vandalism, Wakes & Funerals
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:02:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 68,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27564985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BobsBurgersStories/pseuds/BobsBurgersStories
Summary: "Daddy" was Louise's first word. It was also her last.Alternate version of my story "A Cry in the Park."Updated every other Monday.
Comments: 49
Kudos: 30





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, everyone. How did lockdown number two treat you all? I liked having lots of time to write, but I hope you're all keeping safe and well.
> 
> I know I took my time writing this one, but I wanted to wait until it was complete, before I started posting.  
> You don't have to have read "A Cry in the Park" before you read this, but it will probably make more sense if you do. Also, the epilogue for my story "North by North Tree-st" has been published, if anyone was wanting to read that.
> 
> Even though this will be sad, I'm hoping you will enjoy reading it in any way you can.

Learning to Live Without You

Chapter 1

The air was full of excitement at Wharf Park. The crowd that stood behind the barriers chatted happily, and the dozens of volunteers and rescue personnel had looks of relief and joy on their faces. Of course, they had reason to be happy; they were just hours away from freeing Louise Belcher, and it could not come soon enough. The sun was shining brightly, and the drillers gathered near the tunnel, talking animatedly. There was a sense of release in the air; all the worry and tension was slowly dissipating, and the feeling of excitement could be felt by all.

Douglas Farrell, the underground safety specialist, was hovering near the rescue shaft, waiting for the digger to come up, so that he could go down and remove the bricks separating the little girl from freedom.

The rest of the diggers and volunteers were standing nearby, waiting for the moment when Louise would come up.

Tim and Charlie remained by the well, talking to her. Again, she was silent, but that was nothing unusual.

The Belcher family, along with Teddy, Mort and Big Bob, were standing near the well, looking relieved.

When the Fire Chief, James Richards, received the news that the workers had finished, he approached the Belchers.

“Well, we're done widening the hole,” he told them, looking at their excited faces. “When he comes up, we'll send the mine specialist straight down to start removing the bricks.” He looked over at Bob as the man sniffled and wiped away a tear. “We don't know how long it'll take to remove the bricks,” he admitted. “Douglas has told us that he needs to do it carefully, so it may take up to an hour.”

“As long as they get her out,” said Bob, wiping another tear away.

“We're very close,” Richards told him. “With luck, she'll be out before noon.” Bob checked Teddy's watch as Richards walked away; it was 10:20am, and he looked up, watching as Douglas was rigged up.

“I can't believe it,” he said quietly, his heart thumping with happiness. “They're gonna get her out.” A smile resting across his face, Bob, his family, Teddy, and Mort watched as Douglas was lowered into the tunnel, down the 87 feet to the very bottom. When he was there, he unclipped himself from the cable, and peered into the cross-tunnel. Switching on his mining light, he climbed in.

Douglas wriggled through the tiny tunnel on his stomach, breathing heavily. When he had reached the well, he forced himself onto his knees, a difficult task as his head was now touching the roof of the tunnel. Picking up the hand drill, he held it up to a brick at the bottom of the well. He refused to hold it any higher; another cave-in would be disastrous. He was nervous about using the drill, because of the vibrations it was going to cause, but it was the quickest way, and so he tentatively began drilling a small series of holes in the mortar. Soon enough, the drilling was done, and he took a small hammer and chisel from the floor of the tunnel, and he was able to start chipping away.

After a few more moments, the mortar was almost completely gone, and he put the hammer down and grabbed the brick. It was loose, and he wiggled it out, before removing some more. When had removed a fair few, he leaned forward, looking through the gap and into the well. He saw Louise instantly; she was slightly to his right, almost opposite him. Her head was resting on her right shoulder, and he couldn't see her face.

“Louise?” he called, before reaching for his walkie talkie. “Chief?” he said, “I've broke through; I can see her.”

“ _Great,”_ came Richards' voice. _“Is she alive?”_ he asked quietly, and he held his breath waiting for the answer.

“I'm not sure,” said Douglas, looking at Louise's still form. “Louise? Louise?” She wasn't moving, and Douglas quickly removed another brick. “Louise?! Louise!” he shouted louder and louder, but there was still no response from the little girl. There wasn't enough space for him to reach inside the well, but Douglas took a deep breath, and blew as hard as he could into the gap, before screaming Louise's name. She still didn't answer or even move, and Douglas removed another brick, still calling her name. Upon closer inspection, she didn't seem to be breathing, and his heart leapt into his throat.

He began hurriedly pulling more and more bricks out, working as quickly as he could. He could hear the voice of Richards faintly through the walkie-talkie on the ground, but he ignored it. Reaching into the well, he placed one hand on Louise's head. It was cold; she was freezing, and she still didn't move.

Douglas began to dig through the rubble that she was trapped under; paramedics be damned, he couldn't wait for them. Like a dog burying a bone, he dug into the broken bricks until he had pushed some of it aside.

Placing one arm behind her cold back, and forcing his other under her knees, Douglas pulled Louise out of the well. He placed her limp figure on the floor, put a hand on her chest, and then pressed his ear to it when he didn't feel anything.

“Louise? Louise! Come on!” He tried to turn her head to him so that he could administer CPR, but it had stiffened and wouldn't move, and so he began pumping her chest. Deep down, he knew it was fruitless, he knew it wasn't going to work, but he wasn't going to leave until he had done everything he could for her.

Gently grabbing her, he turned her the other way, so that he now was able to see her face. Her eyes were closed, with bags under them, and her hair was messy. There was a small bruise on the right side of her jaw, and another on her temple. Another bruise adorned the left cheek of her dusty, dirty face.

Douglas continued pumping her chest, before leaning down and giving her mouth-to-mouth, even though he couldn't part her lips. He didn't know how long he repeated the process. He was hoping against all hope that there was just the tiniest chance...

But Louise remained cold, limp, and silent on the floor of the tunnel.

Shaking his head, he placed two fingers under her nose in desperation. Nothing.

Leaning back, he placed a hand over his mouth. They'd lost her. They'd failed.

“Chief?” he picked up his walkie-talkie, trying to keep his voice even.

“ _What is it? I asked you if she was alive; is she okay?”_

“She's dead.”

“ _... What?”_

Douglas heard the confusion in the man's voice.

“She's gone, Chief. We didn't get to her in time.”

“ _Are – are you sure?”_

“I've just spent the last half hour trying to resuscitate her.”

“ _Oh, God,”_ came his voice, and Douglas knew that he was devastated. _“Okay. Okay. Um, I'll... go tell the parents, then. Wait, before I do, I'll send the doctor down there.”_

“Sir -” he began but he was cut off.

“ _No, I know, but at least this way, it's... official.”_

“Okay, sir. Tell him to bring a black cloth or blanket.”

“ _.. You got it,”_ was all Richards said before the walkie-talkie went silent.

Richards approached Cabell and stood next to him.

“Douglas wants you to go down there and.. check something,” he said, doing his best to remain neutral.

“He doesn't wanna wait for the paramedics to bring her up?”

“No, no, he says that this is something that needs to be checked ASAP,” Richards didn't want to say anything. Not until he was completely sure. Not that he didn't trust Douglas; he just wanted a second opinion.

He remained where he was as Cabell was rigged up, not daring to look at the Belchers. If he did, then he was sure he would inadvertently give something away.

* * *

When Cabell reached the bottom of the shaft, he found Douglas standing there, waiting for him, making it very cramped.

“What's the problem?” he said, unclipping himself with some difficulty.

“She's dead,” said Douglas, and Cabell froze.

“What?”

Douglas only nodded and gestured to the tunnel. Saying nothing, Cabell crawled into the tunnel. Louise was where Douglas had left her, just outside of the well, her body limp and her head stiff. Cabell checked her pulse, only to find nothing there. He pressed his fingers to her neck, and attempted to lift her eyelid, but they had stiffened and wouldn't open.

In the shaft, Douglas looked up, hoping, waiting for Cabell to tell him that he was wrong.

But that didn't happen.

Instead, Cabell struggled back through the tunnel, holding Louise's body. He didn't say anything. He didn't have to.

“How long?” Douglas asked.

“A few hours,” came the reply, and Douglas nodded, inhaling deeply.

“Chief?” he again reached for his radio.

“ _Yes?”_ he said, and Douglas could hear the anxiety in his voice.

“She's dead,” he repeated. “She's been dead for a few hours.” There was silence on the other end, before he heard a shuddering sigh.

“ _Okay, then,”_ and Douglas heard a slight tremble in his voice. _“I'll let the family know, and clear everyone out. When they're gone, I'll let you know, and you can.. bring her up. … I'll get you a black cloth.”_

Putting down the radio, Richards finally glanced over at the Belchers. They looked so happy. How was he supposed to tell them? Taking a deep breath, he walked over to where they were. On his way, he passed officer George, and whispered something in his ear. The man's jaw dropped, and then he quickly left. Richards momentarily debated whether or not he should tell the other officers, but he decided that letting the family know first, and right away, was the most important thing.

“Mr and Mrs Belcher,” he began, not knowing how to tell them.

“Are they getting ready to bring her up?” asked Linda, her hands clasped in front of her. He looked at them, and then at all of the people in the park, surrounding them.

“Come with me for a moment, please,” he said, leading them back to the ranger's station. The least he could do was give them some privacy. Teddy, Mort and Big Bob stayed where they were, looking confused.

Once they were inside, Richards again turned to face them, looking at their expectant, eager faces. “Mr and Mrs Belcher, I'm so sorry,” he said. “I'm afraid we didn't get to her in time.”

Bob and Linda looked confused, like they didn't understand what he was saying.

“What?” asked Linda.

“I'm afraid Louise has passed away. I'm so sorry,” he repeated. Linda shook her head slowly as tears pooled in her eyes, and placing a hand over her mouth. Bob's eyes widened, but his face was blank. Gene and Tina looked as if Richards was speaking a foreign language.

“No, no, no, no,” Linda muttered robotically, and Bob began to shake his head.

“Douglas told me,” said Richards, “and I got the doctor down there just to be sure, and he confirmed it.”

That seemed to be the moment of truth for Bob and Linda, who broke. Anything else Richards had to say couldn't be heard over the anguished, inhuman howl from Bob, who had collapsed onto his knees, sobbing, and the heartbroken wailing from Linda.

“I'm so sorry,” he repeated, not having anything else to say. “We did everything we could.”

“That's not true!” screamed Bob. “If you'd done everything you could, you'd still be down there!” He buried his head in his hands and sobbed.

“She can't be dead! My little girl can't be dead!” cried Linda.

“He tried for over half an hour to bring her back, but he couldn't.” Richards lowered his voice. “We're going to clear everyone out of the park, and then we're going to bring her up, okay?” He picked up his radio, and called for Carol to come and be with them.

When she had arrived, Richards walked back over to the well, and raised his hands, causing the reporters to gather around him. “I have an statement I'd like to make,” he said, waiting for silence before he continued. “It is with great tragedy and sorrow that we announce that Louise Belcher has died. She passed away a few hours before rescuers could reach her. We respectfully request that all personnel, media and onlookers to clear the area before we bring her up, and we ask you to respect the family's privacy at this time.”

The crowd were stunned. Most of them remained where they were, in shock. How was it possible? Louise couldn't be dead.

It wasn't until the policemen began to shepherd them away that it sunk in. Deputy Police Chief Jack Davis prepared the ambulance and the medics to take the body away. Tim and Charlie made no efforts to hide their tears as they moved everyone toward the direction of the entrance gates. Both of them wanted to stay; they'd been there for so long, they had to find out if it was true. But they couldn't, and they had to head towards the gates with everyone else, themselves and the other officers and firemen automatically forming a barrier that herded the crowd away from the well.

“She's dead?” came the many murmuring voices. “She died?”

“Oh, my God,” said Mort quietly, his eyes wide. “This can't be real.”

Teddy was loudly sobbing, as was Big Bob. They were in such a state of shock that they didn't even realise they had been moved almost completely out of the park, along with everyone else.

“No, no!” Big Bob was saying, shaking his head. “Not my granddaughter, no!”

“They-they've made a mistake; they must have!” Mort insisted, his voice trembling.

“Oh – Oh, my God!” Big Bob sobbed, burying his face in his hands, as Teddy and Mort huddled around him.

The police were trying to get people to go home, but many wouldn't. The crowd members had left, but were right outside the gates, seemingly frozen in shock. A lot of the volunteers were sure that it was some kind of mistake, and were waiting for the second announcement, in which it would be revealed that Louise really was alive, and she had just been sleeping.

But the police kept doing their best to herd them away, and eventually, they were all removed from the park. Once outside the gates, the volunteers, firemen, reporters, and family and friends remained where they were, needing to know more. How had this happened; they were so close. Surely, she could still be saved?

The kids' were standing there, none of them not knowing what to do or say.

“This can't be happening,” said Regular-sized Rudy, wiping his wet face with shaking hands. Zeke was crying, Millie was inconsolable. Rudy looked back into the park, but could see nothing. He was so certain that she was going to make it, but... He could only cry and hide his face, and Zeke embraced him tightly.

* * *

When everyone had left, the Belchers returned to the well. The black cloth had already been lowered.

“You're wrong; she isn't dead. You're wrong. You'll see,” Linda kept saying, as Bob continued to cry. Richards could only signal for the cable to be raised and stepped back.

They waited, seemingly forever, as the cable slowly moved up. Bob straightened up and wiped his face clean, and Linda clutched his hand tightly. In unison, they reached out and pulled Gene and Tina towards them, the four of them hugging fiercely.

After a while, Dr Cabell came into view, with something small wrapped in black in his arm. Bob couldn't help himself; he rushed over and pulled the cloth back. There she was, his youngest child, her eyes closed, her face bruised and expressionless. She looked just as if she were sleeping. Bob burst into tears again and took his daughter from Cabell. He fell to his knees, as his family gathered around him. Linda pulled the cloth the back further, trying to hold her daughter's hand, crying harder when she realised how swollen and blackened it was. Louise's black, swollen legs were still wrapped up in the cloth, and her arms were by her side. Her treasured bunny ears were dirty.

Gene and Tina were rooted to the spot, unable to believe their eyes.

“Louise?” Gene whispered.

“Come on, Louise, wake up,” Bob begged, stroking her hair, her forehead, doing his best to avoid shaking her. “Please, please don't leave us. Wake up.”

Linda moved and began to cradle Louise's unmoving head. “Please, Louise, wake up. Why won't you wake up?!” His sobs became hysterical, and he held her tighter.

Gene and Tina got closer, looking down at their little sister, tears silently pouring down their cheeks. Seeing Louise lying there, so slack and cold made it all the more real for them. Tina knelt down and took Louise's cold hand, shaking her head in disbelief. Gene sat next to her head, staring. He reached out touched her cheek. Ice cold, and more tears fell down his face. “You can bring her back, can't you?” Bob turned his tear-soaked face up to the doctor. “I mean, you're a doctor, that's what you do, right?” He began to gasp heavily. “There's gotta be something you can do! Anything! What – what about those paddle things? Try those! Please, you gotta try!”

“I'm sorry, sir,” said Cabell. “There isn't anything we can do.”

“But you haven't even got the paddles! How do you know they won't work?!” Bob sobbed as he buried his face in Louise's hat. “You've gotta try!” he pleaded. “Try anything!”

“Mr Belcher, if there was anything we could have done, we would have done it,” Cabell said honestly. “I'm so sorry.”

Bob didn't answer, and only cried harder into Louise's head.

The Belchers remained there with their daughter and sister for a further twenty minutes, the four of them just sat there surrounding her, crying, before Cabell approached them.

“We... have to take Louise to the mortuary,” he explained, and Linda held onto her daughter tightly.

“Louise is not going to the mortuary!” 

“Mrs Belcher, I know this must be terribly hard for you, and I know you don't want to believe it, but she's gone. We tried for half an hour to bring her back, but it was too late.” He turned to Bob, who was still crying, but looked only slightly more stable. “Mr Belcher, this may be hard, but we need your permission to perform an autopsy.”

“Autopsy? What for?”

“We don't know the cause of death, and an autopsy will help us determine that.” Bob sniffed and wiped his eyes. He buried his head in Linda's shoulder, and she wrapped an arm around him.

“Uh-huh. Okay.”

“Okay. And when the autopsy is done, Louise will be taken to the chapel of rest. It's – uh – time for us to take Louise now.”

“No! You're not going to take my baby!” Linda made her way towards Dr Cabell, but Richards held her back as the doctor moved towards Louise.

“Wait!” Tina cried, rushing to her sister's side and placing a kiss on her head. Gene and Bob did the same, followed by Linda. The doctor then pulled the cloth back over Louise and placed her in the back of the ambulance.

As the vehicle began to drive out of the park, the Belcher family stared after it, looking lost. That was their sister and daughter in there.

Carol approached them quietly.

“I'll drive you home,” she offered, her voice gentle, but the family didn't answer. They were still staring after the ambulance. Carol placed her hand on Linda's shoulder. “Come on, I'll take you home,” she said again, and gently began to guide them through the park.

As if in a daze, the Belchers began to blindly follow her, with Richards, Davis, and Douglas behind them. All of them were silent as they walked through the park. Bob and Linda were holding hands, with Gene and Tina in front of them, who looked shell-shocked.

When they reached the entrance, the crowd was still there, and the reporters began to surround them, the cameras flashing, the journalists shouting questions at them. Bob and Linda didn't see nor hear them, as they blindly walked ahead, oblivious to Richards and Davis moving the crowd back, trying to give them some privacy. At least the people who had come to watch had the decency to hang back.

Upon reaching the car, Bob climbed into the front, while Linda squashed up into the back with Gene and Tina.

“Thanks for the ride,” said Bob robotically as Carol pulled up outside their home.

“No problem. Do you want me to come in with you?” She wasn't really supposed to, but she'd been supporting them for the past five days, and it felt wrong to just leave them now.

“We'll be fine,” said Bob in the same robotic voice, as they climbed out of the car. Teddy, Mort, and Big Bob were there.

“Bob? Bob, come here,” Big Bob stepped forward, but Bob just carried on walking, as if he didn't even see them. They went into their apartment and locked the door.

The three men looked at one another, the pain evident on their faces. “What are we supposed to do?” asked Big Bob, but Teddy and Mort couldn't answer him. There was nothing they could say.

“Uh, maybe we should give them some space,” Mort suggested. Big Bob nodded, and he walked away with the handyman. Teddy looked over at the Belcher residence, and gave a sad sigh before heading home.

Once they were inside the house, Linda immediately went to the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of wine, before shutting herself in Louise's room. Bob went into the kitchen, as well, while Gene and Tina sat on the sofa, looking devastated.

After a few moments, Bob came out of the kitchen, holding a large knife.

“Dad, what are you doing?” asked Tina.

“I'm going to kill Logan Bush,” said Bob calmly, his voice more monotone than Tina's.

“What? Dad, you can't!” She ran over to him.

“Yes, I can; he killed my daughter. He's the reason she's not here with us, so I'm going to kill him.” He began to slowly walk down the stairs, ignoring Tina's attempts to pull him back. When he left, she ran to Louise's room and tried to open the door, but it was locked.

“Mom? Mom! Dad's gonna do something bad; please make him stop!” There was no answer. Her heart racing, Tina pressed her ear up against the door, breathing a small sigh of relief when she heard quiet sobbing. “Mom, you have to come out here! Please don't let him do this!” She still got no answer, and so Tina went back into the living room. Gene was staring at the blank television screen, tears running down his face, so Tina picked up the phone.

“Police?” she said, when the call had been put through. “This is Tina Belcher; my dad's on his way to kill Logan Bush; he has a knife, please stop him.” She couldn't bear to lose her dad now.

“ _Alright, we'll send some officers' over there right now, okay? They'll be looking for your dad, and they'll bring him home.”_ Tina didn't recognise the voice; she was too frazzled, so she could only thank them, and hung up, before dialling Big Bob, pacing all the while.

* * *

Bob walked down the street on autopilot. He wasn't aware of where he was going, but his feet knew the way. There weren't too many people walking down the street, with it being a weekday afternoon, and so he wasn't disturbed by anyone.

He didn't really have a plan for what he was going to do when he got to Logan's house, but he did know that he wanted to cause the teen as much pain and suffering as possible. And why shouldn't he? Louise was dead; she was dead, and it was all because of him. He quickly wiped his face as fresh tears rolled down his cheeks as he arrived at the Bush residence. His hand reached out and rang the doorbell. Cynthia answered, her expression unreadable as she studied him.

“Yes?” she said, her tone not as harsh as it was previously.

“Where's your son?” asked Bob, still speaking in a monotone. Cynthia was aware of what had happened, and she was guessing that Bob was there to cause aggravation.

“He's not here,” she lied, not noticing that Bob was holding his arm behind his back slightly.

“Yes, he is. I need to talk with him.”

“I don't think so,” she made to close the door, but Bob stopped her, pushing it further open.

“He killed my daughter! The least you can do is let me talk to him!” he snapped, brandishing the knife. Cynthia gasped, and slammed the door, locking it and hurriedly calling 911. She could hear Bob kicking the door, yelling, and she moved away, lest he tried to stab his way in.

Luckily, at that moment, the police arrived, and quickly raced to the porch. One of them grabbed Bob's arms, and the other wrestled the knife away. Bob did not struggle or resist; instead, he drooped. The two policemen knew who he was. They hadn't been at Wharf Park, but they had been following the news story, like almost everyone else in Seymour's Bay.

The bigger of the two escorted Bob to the car, while the other one knocked on Cynthia's door, calling out that he was a policeman. Shaking, she let him inside, as Logan came down the stairs.

“What was all that about?” he asked, hovering on the fifth step.

“J-just some kids fighting,” she said. There was no need for him to know what had just happened. He would find out eventually, but Cynthia didn't want to worry him at that moment.

“What's the policeman here for?”

“Just to talk.” Logan only nodded before heading back upstairs, and Cynthia went into the living-room with the officer.

A dazed Bob was again driven home, this time the police officer took him inside, with Big Bob following. Carol was there, sitting with Gene and Tina, doing her best to provide some small form of comfort.

“He was outside their house,” said the officer. “I'm gonna go back there and follow up on the report.” They all knew that there would not be any charges; Bob wasn't thinking straight, anyone could see that, and it wasn't fair to put the Belchers through any more pain when they had just lost their child.

“Dad?” asked Tina quietly, but Bob did not look at her. Big Bob reached out to hug him, but he might as well have hugged a statue. “Dad, please talk,” she pleaded. The burger phone rang; Bob flipped it open and instantly hung up.

“It's pretty late; why don't you go to bed?” Bob suggested, failing to keep his dazed, monotone voice even.

“Okay,” she said quietly, even though it was barely 1:30pm, not knowing what else to do. “Goodnight,” she said, leaving the room, with Gene following her, as the phone rang again. Gene did not go to his room; instead, they both slowly walked down the hall to Louise's bedroom. “Goodnight, Mom,” Tina whispered at the door, but Linda didn't answer. The siblings retreated into Tina's room, still able to hear the quiet sobbing of their parents. Together, they sat silently on her bed. The last few hours of the day did not seem to make sense at all. One minute, they were all so excited and happy; they were getting ready to bring Louise up. The next, a lifeless Louise was lying in front of her. Every time Tina closed her eyes, she could see her parents sobbing over her baby sister's body. It was something she knew she would remember for the rest of her life. “What are we supposed to do?” she asked quietly, willing her hands to stop shaking. Gene did not answer her; he was still staring blankly ahead. She didn't want to go back into the living room; she wanted to go to sleep and forget this ever happened.

Tina couldn't seem to lie down; she seemed frozen in place. Without realising what she was doing, she had gotten up, and left her room. As she walked down the hallway, she could hear Bob still crying, along with her grandfather. She could hear the voice of Carol talking quietly to them, but she was unable to make out any words.

Tina slipped into her parents' bedroom and returned with their photo album. Sitting back down next to Gene, she let the book fall open on their laps, and she started to slowly flip through it. Every time she came to a picture of Louise, they both stared at it, trying to memorise her face.

Tina kept repeating the same sentence over and over in her head. _'My sister is dead. My sister is dead.'_ No matter how many times she heard it, it still didn't seem real, and she wondered whether it ever would.

Gene was sat bolt upright, stiff as a board, staring at the photos with a glazed look in his eyes. He did not react when Tina squeezed his hand. “M-maybe we should try and get some sleep,” she stuttered, hoping more than anything in the world that she was just having a nightmare. Just as before, she pinched her arm, but nothing happened. She would give anything to be dreaming right now; she would never ask for anything again; the word “horse” would never even pass her lips for the rest of her life, if this could all be just a horrible nightmare.

Tina did not object when Gene climbed under the covers; in fact, she was glad. She really didn't want to be alone, and neither did he.

Eventually they fell asleep, the photo album resting on the pillow between them.

* * *

When Tina awoke the next morning, she hardly dared open her eyes. She was afraid to leave her room. She told herself that it meant nothing that Gene was in her bed; he'd just had a nightmare, that's all, and she'd shown him childhood photos to calm him down. That was it.

Gene did not stir as Tina got out of bed, her clothing wrinkled. Taking a deep breath and biting her lip, Tina left her room. The apartment was so quiet. But that didn't mean anything, right? There were lots of reasons for the apartment to be absolutely silent. Tina couldn't think of any off the top of her head, but she knew that the reasons existed.

 _'Please let it be a dream. Please let it be a dream,'_ she thought, as she slowly walked down the hall, her every footstep seemingly filling the house.

She entered the kitchen to find Bob sat at the table, a broken man, Louise's special Kuchi Kopi shaped mug clutched in his hand. Instantly, she knew that it had all happened; the whole, horrible thing had really happened, and it was real, and she felt sick.

There was no sign of her mother and Tina assumed that she was still in Louise's room. She took another deep breath, taking another step into the kitchen.

“Tina. I didn't see you there,” Bob sniffled and wiped his nose. “What do you want for breakfast?” he asked, not looking as though he were up to the task.

“I'm not hungry,” she told him. Bob nodded and left the room. Tina could not bring herself to look at the mug.

Bob ambled down the hall, almost drunkenly, and knocked on Louise's door.

“Linda?” he called. “Please come out, honey. Lin?” But he got no answer. He could hear movement, which made him feel a little bit better. Sighing, Bob made his way back toward the kitchen and heard knocking at the door, which he ignored. He could probably guess who it was; his father, who had left briefly that morning. It could also be Teddy, Mort, Gayle, Al and Gloria. He didn't want to see any of them. Almost selfishly, he hoped his father had broken the news, because he couldn't bear to say those words.

More knocking at the door, but this time it opened, and he heard several pairs of footsteps coming up the stairs. Then, he was surrounded, with many arms hugging him.

“It can't be true!” Gayle was sobbing. “It just can't be!” The five of them – Bob, Big Bob, Gayle, Al, and Gloria – slowly moved forward until they were in the living room. There, they collapsed in a heap upon the sofa.

“I just can't believe it; this can't be happening,” Gloria shook her head, holding Al's hand tightly.

“Where's Linda?” asked Big Bob.

“She's locked herself in Louise's room,” said Tina, hovering awkwardly in the doorway. Gayle rose and left the room.

“Do – do they know why?” Gloria asked, not sure if she wanted to know.

“No; they're gonna do an... autopsy,” said Bob, trying to hold back his tears but failing. Big Bob leaned over, hugging his son tightly. Bob just sobbed in his arms, surprised that he even had any tears left.

Meanwhile, Gayle was outside Louise's bedroom, talking to Linda, trying to coax her out.

“Linda? I can't even begin to imagine how you're feeling, but we're all here for you,” she said through the door. “Everyone's here; come on down.”

“There's nothing for you to be here for,” came Linda's voice. “Louise isn't dead, so you can all go home.”

“Linda, please come down. You need to talk to us,” Gayle pleaded. “You need to let your emotions out.”

“There are no emotions to be let out!” Linda snapped. “Louise is not dead, so just _go!_ ” Gayle made her way back down the hall, not having any other option.

Linda sat with her back against the bedroom door. In one of her hands was Bakeneko. In the other was the key to the door. Why was everyone telling her that Louise was dead? She couldn't be; not her baby. She knew that the doctor had made a mistake, and she was confident that Louise would be coming home any moment now. Dr Cabell had said that there was nothing he could do, but Linda didn't believe him. They must have revived Louise, of that she was certain.

All that silly talk about giving Louise an autopsy; autopsies weren't for little girls, they were for dead people. Linda supposed that Dr Cabell would see sense sooner or later, as would the rest of her family.

“She won't come out,” Gayle said, upon returning to the living room. “She won't even talk.”

“It wouldn't surprise me if she's in denial,” said Al. “Who could blame her?”

“Denial is the first stage of grief,” Big Bob said. “If she is, then there isn't a lot we can do.”

“I want to see Louise,” said Tina quietly, and they all turned to look at her.

“I don't think we can just yet,” Bob told her. “I don't know when they're doing the – the -” he couldn't bring himself to say “autopsy.” Not again; it was such a horrible word.

“I'll phone them,” Big Bob volunteered, and Bob just nodded. Big Bob pulled out his phone and dialled the mortuary. Carol had told them that that was where Louise was.

“ _Hello, It's Your Funeral funeral home.”_

“Hello? I'd like to speak to – to whoever.. is looking after my granddaughter, L-Louise Belcher,” his voice cracked a little.

“ _Hello, Mr Belcher, I'm the one taking care of her,”_ came a familiar voice. He knew that voice, he just couldn't place it.

“We'd... we'd like to see Louise.”

“ _I'm afraid it can't be done today, Mr Belcher; tomorrow, Louise will be taken to the chapel of rest, which is located here in the mortuary, and she'll remain there until the funeral, and you'll be able to visit her then. Uh, could you please pass the phone to Mr Belcher.. Junior?”_

Big Bob handed the phone over to his son, reality setting in even more. “ _Mr Belcher?”_

“Yes?” Bob recognised the voice, too, but he was in no state of mind to think clearly.

_"Uh, you'll need to bring some of Louise's clothing over tonight. So we can get her ready.”_

“O-okay.”

“ _A bereavement counsellor is on her way to your home; she'll be helping you and your family deal with the grief.”_

“Okay,” Bob repeated, hanging up. “He wants me to – to bring some of Louise's clothes down tonight,” he revealed.

“He said Louise will be in the chapel of rest until the funeral,” said Big Bob.

“There's so much to do,” Tina realised.

“I can't believe this is happening,” muttered Al. The family fell silent for a moment, none of them knowing what to say.

“Where is the.. chapel of rest?” asked Bob.

“Oh, uh, a place called “It's Your Funeral.”

Bob looked up at him, more life in his eyes than there had been all day.

“That's next door!” he gasped, tearing up. “She's there? She's next door right now? She's alone!” Before he knew it, he was bounding down the stairs, and pounding on Mort's front door. “Mort! Mort, open up! Open up now!” he insisted, continuing to knock relentlessly until Mort had appeared, looking worn out, placing his gloves in his apron. “Louise is in there; let me see her,” he demanded.

“I'm sorry, Bob, I can't.” Mort did look truly sorry.

“Why not? That's my daughter; I need to see her!”

“We have to finish getting her ready; you can come tomorrow.”

“I want to see her now,” Bob tried to barge in, but Mort blocked the way. “Why are you doing this? I just want to see her!”

“Bob, I'd love to let you see her,” said Mort honestly, “but I can't. We're still.. well, we're – we're just finishing up with her. I don't want you to see her until she's.. more comfortable,” he finished. He was actually glad for the break. Performing Louise's autopsy and embalming her had taken its toll on him, and he was glad for Samantha's help.

“You have to let me in!” Bob crumpled against Mort, sobbing. Mort, his knees buckling under the grief-filled weight of the younger man, could only pat his shoulder.

Suddenly, a pair of hands had removed the distraught father.

“Come on, now; come on,” said Bob's father, holding his son, looking close to tears himself. “Let's go back inside.” Bob allowed himself to be led back upstairs, and Mort stood there, watching.

He wiped a tear from his cheek, before closing the door, and heading back to the basement.

* * *

Finally, a few hours later, Linda and Gene ventured into the living room, Linda still clutching Bakeneko in a vice grip, and Gene staring blankly ahead. They were immediately enveloped into a group hug, everyone giving words of comfort.

“Oh, Linda, I'm so sorry!” said Gayle sincerely.

“I can't believe it happened.”

“It's just terrible.”

“If there's anything, _anything_ we can do...”

“I hoped you'd never have to experience this,” Gloria told her.

“Thank you for the kind words,” said Linda flatly, breaking away from the hug. She headed into the kitchen, and returned with another bottle of wine, drinking it straight from the bottle.

“I guess I should... go and pick some clothes out,” said Bob, staring desperately at the bottle. He wanted so badly to grab it and down the whole thing, but some fuzzy part of his brain was telling him not to. He couldn't figure out why.

“I'll go with you,” Tina took her dad's hand and they made their down the hall together.

When they entered Louise's room, Tina stopped at the doorway, realising that Louise would never set foot in there again. Judging by Bob's hesitation, he was realising the same thing.

They walked over to the chest of drawers and began rifling through it. “How about this?” said Tina, holding up Louise's black catering dress.

“Maybe,” said Bob, gently brushing his fingers over the material, and Tina placed it on the bed.

“Well, there's this one,” she held up another dress, a red one. Bob sat on the floor just staring at the dresser.

“No, not that one,” he said eventually. Together, they went through every article of clothing they could find, trying to decide on what to use, but they were having trouble.

“Maybe, it should be the black dress,” said Tina, sitting down next to her dad, imagining that they were preparing to cater for Boyz 4 Now. Louise had to look her best for Boo Boo. She lifted Louise's duvet, searching for shoes.

“She doesn't like that dress.” Bob reached forward and picked up one of Louise's favourite green dresses. “How about this?” he asked.

“I – I think she should be dressed nicely,” Tina whispered, and Bob nodded, another dress catching his eye. It was white, with short, puffed sleeves, and a white lace overlay. A pink satin sash was tied around the waist. It was angelic. An angelic dress for his angel.

He vaguely remembered Linda making it; there was some sort of mall photo shoot that she'd won a voucher for, and she'd wanted them all to look nice. Tina had the same dress, and Gene had a little white tuxedo with a pink cummerbund. At the time, Bob had thought the outfits were a bit too 90's happy family photoshoot, but now he would give anything to squeeze into his own tux, and be forced to smile for the camera against a garish backdrop.

“This one,” he said.

“Okay. That's a nice one,” said Tina quietly. She pulled some white Mary Jane shoes out from under Louise's bed, handing them to Bob, along with a pair of white socks.

Standing, he hugged the clothing close before placing it on the bedside table in his room, before leaving with Tina.

When they came to the kitchen, they found Big Bob cooking for them, but none of them were hungry. However, they still respectfully sat at the table, cramped though it was, but they couldn't bring themselves to speak.

The sad, strained silence that followed this was mercifully interrupted by the doorbell ringing and Big Bob went to answer it. It was a middle-aged woman with soft brown hair and wearing a grey suit.

“Mr Belcher?” she asked.

“Senior,” he confirmed. “My son's upstairs,” and the woman nodded and followed him up and into the living room.

“Hello, I'm Nadia Smith; I'm your bereavement counsellor,” she held out her hand to Bob, who shook it. “Dr Cabell sent me.” Bob nodded but said nothing. “Where is your wife?” she enquired and Bob pointed her towards the chair. That fuzzy voice in his brain was sure that some part of this was a good idea; if Linda was in denial, this could help her. Denial sounded great to him; every time Bob thought of his daughter, the pain cut through him like a knife, but he knew that denial wasn't going to help Linda in the long run.

“Hello, Mrs Belcher,” Nadia approached Linda. “I'm Nadia Smith, your bereavement counsellor; Dr Cabell sent me.”

“Thank you for your concern, but there's really no need,” said Linda robotically. “There's been a mistake, you see; my daughter isn't dead, so you can go back where you came from.”

“I'm afraid I can't do that, Mrs Belcher. You're experiencing full-blown denial due to the death of your daughter, and you can't keep your emotions locked up like this.”

“I'm not experiencing denial because there's nothing for me to deny! My baby is not dead! Now, please leave!”

“I'm sorry, Mrs Belcher; my job is to help people deal with the loss of their loved ones.”

“Like I said, my daughter is not dead, so you're just wasting your time here.”

Nadia sighed. Her job was never easy, but she genuinely wanted to help.

“Mrs Belcher, why don't we talk about your daughter? What was her name? Tell me about her.”

While Linda was arguing with Nadia, Bob slipped outside and walked next door, with Louise's clothing in his hands. When he arrived at the funeral home, he carried the clothes inside, finding Mort waiting for him, and they went into his office.

“I've brought the clothes,” he said quietly. Mort nodded solemnly and reached out to take them, but Bob held them close to him.

“Bob,” said Mort gently, and Bob reluctantly handed the clothing over. “Thank you.”

“Where is she?”

Mort didn't have to ask who Bob was talking about.

“She's still here. We'll have the results of the autopsy tomorrow. Louise will be moved upstairs to the chapel of rest tomorrow, and she'll remain there until the funeral.” Bob only nodded. “If you'd like to come back here tomorrow morning, I'll give you the results.”

“Okay.”

“How're the family?”

“How do you think?”

“I can't even begin to imagine. I hope you'll be okay,” he said sincerely, before turning around and leaving.

Back outside, Bob slumped to the ground and sobbed. He buried his head in his hands and cried until he could cry no more, and then slowly started to walk home.

He arrived back home to find that the counsellor had left and everybody was in the sitting room.

“Where'd that lady go?”

“I told her to leave,” said Linda, still holding Bakeneko in a vice grip. “But she said she'd come back tomorrow; I said no, but she wouldn't hear it.”

“Perhaps it's for the best, Linda,” Gayle encouraged. “She's right; you need to show your emotions.”

“No, I don't,” said Linda flatly. “I can't believe you're all just accepting the doctor's word!”

“Well, he's got no reason to lie to us, and... we did see Louise,” said Bob. When Linda didn't answer him, he continued. “Mort said that we can go see Louise tomorrow,” he told the family. “And – and he also said that we'll get the au... autopsy results tomorrow, as well.”

“Do you think maybe Gene and Tina should stay home?” Al suggested. “It might be upsetting.”

“No, I have to see her,” Tina insisted. She needed to memorise her sister; the fact that she was never going to see her again was almost too much for her to bear.

Gene, sat stiffly on the sofa, gave no indication that he had even heard what had been said. He was staring at the wall, his eyes glazed as though he was not really seeing it.

“Okay,” Bob agreed, not about to let his kids not say goodbye to their sister. “Gene? You okay?” He noticed that the boy hadn't moved. He felt bad that he hadn't even noticed his son until Tina had placed her hand on his arm. Gene still didn't react.

“He's been like that since...” Tina didn't finish her sentence.

“I think he'll be okay; you kids have had a massive shock. I think he's just processing everything,” said Big Bob.

“Well, why don't we all try to get some sleep?” suggested Gloria. Mumbling in agreement, the rest of the family rose and disbanded, pulling out spare pillows and blankets, and finding spaces to sleep. Gloria and Al slept in Gene's room, while Gayle curled up on the sofa, and Big Bob slept on the floor.

Gene and Tina went back to Tina's room, the two of them silent, neither of them knowing what to say. Gene didn't even bother taking his shoes off before burrowing under the blankets.

Linda went to go back into Louise's room, but Bob grabbed her hand; he wanted her here with him.

“Don't leave me alone,” he pleaded. Linda hiccupped, still clutching both the empty bottle, and Bakeneko, and merely followed Bob into the bedroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep. Told you it was going to be sad.  
> Regarding the summary, if you read "A Cry in the Park," in chapter 4, Louise does say "daddy," but doesn't speak after that.  
> As it's me, this is going to be another long story, so I will understand if some of you choose to back out now, given the subject matter. No spoilers, but it won't be all doom and gloom; I've done my best to add some balance with some light-hearted moments.
> 
> I'd love to know your thoughts.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, what a difference a week makes. When I posted the first chapter, lock down restrictions in my country had been relaxed. Now, we're in tier 4, which means all non essential shops are closed, and we're not allowed to visit friends/family unless we're in their bubble.
> 
> Anyway, please enjoy this chapter as my little Christmas/holiday gift to you, (sad though it may be).

Learning to Live Without You

Chapter 2

His heart heavier than the earth, moon, and sun all put together, Bob awoke and dressed silently. As he pulled his shirt on, Linda stirred, Bakeneko clutched to her chest.

“I'm going to see Mort in a few minutes. Do you wanna come?”

“Okay, fine I'll go. Then you'll see; you'll see Louise isn't dead,” she said, getting out of bed. She'd not bothered to undress last night, and now she didn't bother to change her clothes or brush her hair. Neither had Bob; he didn't see the point. Nothing mattered any more.

The walk next door seemed to be never-ending this time; they were finally going to learn the reason why their baby died. Bob wanted to know but at the same time, he didn't want to know. What if she'd had internal injuries and that was the cause? What if it had been something preventable, like the diggers reaching her sooner? If Louise could have been saved... Bob didn't know what he would do.

They found Mort, along with Dr Cabell, and were invited to sit in his office.

“How are you doing?” Mort asked kindly, and they only shrugged. “We've got the results from Louise's autopsy. Are you okay to hear it?” Bob was struggling internally. He already felt guilty beyond belief for sending her out that day. He would never forgive himself. For that reason, he wasn't sure whether he wanted to know the result; he didn't know how he would live with himself if Louise could have been saved. On the other hand, he would get closure once he knew the results, and the only thing worse than knowing was not knowing.

After what seemed like an eternity, he nodded. “It has been ruled that the cause of death was dehydration and hypothermia,” Mort read the results as delicately as he could.

“You're sure it's Louise?” asked Linda. “It's definitely her, and not some other kid?”

“It's definitely her,” Mort said, and Linda's jaw dropped slightly. It really had happened. Her baby girl was – she put a trembling hand over her mouth, shaking her head. Her little girl couldn't be dead, not her baby. How was she supposed to carry on? All she wanted to do was lie face-first on the floor, and drink until she passed out. Her whole body felt weighted, but that was okay, because she didn't want to move. She wanted to go back to Louise's room and stay in there forever and ever.

“But.. they were giving her stuff for that,” said Bob, his exhausted eyes focused on the wall next to Mort.

“She lost more fluids that we could replace,” said Cabell. “Through tears, urination, and she'd become unable to sustain her body temperature.” He paused. “She had something called septicaemia; blood poisoning, which more than likely contributed to her death.” He looked over at the devastated parents. “She wouldn't have felt anything. She would have just gone to sleep,” he added, hoping it would bring some comfort to them. Bob nodded robotically.

“What other injuries did she have?” he asked.

“She had a broken ankle, and a fractured tail bone,” Cabell began. “She had pressure sores on her back, and her kidneys were shutting down. It also looked like gangrene on her arms and legs, where they were under the bricks.”

“Could – could she have been -” Bob didn't finish the question, but Cabell knew what he meant.

“It was just one of those things. Perhaps, if they had gotten to her in time, we might have been able to do something,” he said gently, and Bob nodded. He wasn't sure if that was supposed to make him feel better.

“Thanks,” he muttered as he and Linda stood.

“Give my love to the family,” Mort added as they left the room. He'd known them for years; since before they had Tina. The only thing keeping him from breaking down was the fact that he was a professional. The least he could do was wait for them to leave the building.

* * *

When Bob and Linda returned, they joined their family in getting ready to go to the chapel of rest. It would have been easier for them to just wait at Mort's, rather than going back home, but naturally, they weren't thinking properly. Linda refused to loosen her hold on Bakeneko. As soon as they saw Bob and Linda, silence descended upon the room.

“Well?” said Al. “What did they say?”

Heads turned to look at him before swivelling back to Bob, who was looking at Tina and Gene.

“Uh, kids, would you mind stepping outside for a minute?”

“No, Dad, we have to know,” Tina insisted bravely, and Bob nodded.

“Mort and the doctor said the reason Louise died was -” Bob took a deep breath and continued. “Louise died because of de-dehydration and hypothermia.”

“How?” asked Gayle through her tears. “I thought she had heat and water!”

“She did,” said Linda, clutching Bakeneko to her chest. “She just – they said that she just lost more than they could give her, and they said she had... blood poisoning.”

“Poison?” Tina whispered, but no one seemed to hear her. Did they give Louise bad water? She didn't understand.

Just as they were about to leave, there came a knock at the door, and Gayle answered it.

“Hi,” said Teddy quietly. He was holding something small and green in his hands. “I've been knocking and calling, but... Anyway, I just wanted to bring this back,” he held up Kuchi Kopi. “They gave it to me to give to you.”

“Thank you.” Gayle took the treasured little night light. She knew how much Louise adored this thing, and she held it tightly to stop her hands from shaking as she went back upstairs.

“Who was it?” asked Tina.

“It was your friend, Teddy. He – he brought this,” she held up the toy, and Tina gasped quietly.

“Kuchi Kopi.” She wanted to reach out for it, but it felt wrong. It belonged to Louise.

“Put it on the table,” Bob choked, unable to even look at it. Gayle nodded and quickly did so, before they made the short walk next door.

Once inside, they were met by Mort and Samantha, both of them looking weary, and then they were led down a few halls until they reached a door, which they went through. They were in a small room with a curtain hanging down at one end. The morticians' had done their best to make the room look cosy; there was a table with flowers on it, framed posters of scenic views on the walls and several comfortable chairs.

Mort pulled back the curtain to reveal Louise lying in a satin-lined oak coffin. Al and Gloria gasped, Tina grabbed her father's hand, Big Bob, Bob, and Linda covered their mouths with their hands and Gene and Gayle's eyes widened.

Bob's breath caught in his throat and he fought back tears. Louise's skin was waxy and a just a few shades paler than it used to be, her hands were folded neatly across her chest, but she looked so peaceful, just as if she were sleeping. She was wearing the clothes that Bob had picked out, along with her white dress shoes, and white socks, and her hair had been brushed and washed. She was wearing her bunny ears, which had been cleaned.

Mort had done a fantastic job on her; he'd used a lot of makeup to conceal her blackened limbs, and to make her grey face look more natural, along with covering the bruises. Now that the rigor mortis had dissipated, he had been able to make her look comfortable. She looked so... normal. They would never have guessed that her lips had been sewn shut, or that cotton was filling her cheeks to make them look less hollow or that her eyes had been glued shut. It was so hard to believe that she was.. That she wasn't just sleeping.

Bob reached down and gently stroked her forehead; she was so cold, he noted, biting back more tears.

Linda stood near her youngest's head, her hand pressed over her mouth. She shook her head a few times, her eyes brimming with tears.

“It's really her,” she whispered. “She really is -”

Tina stepped forward, staring at her motionless sister, and took her hand. Gene hung back for a moment, before slowly stepping up beside Tina. He laid a hand on Louise's arm, his face crumpling.

Al and Gloria were quietly sobbing behind her, and Big Bob and Gayle were staring silently. Nobody said a word. Instead, they continued to stare at Louise, waiting. Surely it would be like in the movies, and she would give a great cough, and sit up? It was the only thing that made sense; there was no other alternative to consider. Tina concentrated on Louise's chest, looking intently for the faintest movement, the tiniest sign that she was still breathing.

But nothing happened, and they remained staring at the youngest Belcher.

* * *

At Wagstaff Elementary School, the student body filed into the auditorium for their mandatory daily assembly. This one was unusual because Principal Spoors himself was standing in front of the microphone, but Mr Frond was next to him. Not only that, all of the teachers' were there, as well.

Of course, many of them knew why. A large number of the students were looking sombre.

Principal Spoors eyed the teachers sat at the side of the auditorium as he waited for silence. The rowdy chattering of the students continued as it did every assembly as Spoors waited patiently on the stage, and ordinarily he would have hushed them, but today he just stood there silently.  
Row by row, the students began to quieten and the whole auditorium soon sat quietly, waiting for Spoors to begin.

“Good morning, children,” Spoors began, scanning the rows of pupils. “I'm afraid I have some bad news.”

“Are you retiring?” heckled one of the older kids and a few giggles broke out. Spoors waited for the laughter to subside before calmly continuing.

“No. First off, I want to thank you for coming in these past few days; I understand how hard it must be for you. I'm afraid this bad news is about one of our pupils.” He paused as the children started murmuring to each other. “As you may be aware, one of our students, Louise Belcher has... has tragically died.” Spoors paused again as more murmurs arose from the room. “Her family ask that you please respect their privacy at this time,” well, they hadn't explicitly said that, or anything, but they didn't have to, and Spoors had correctly guessed that the family wouldn't want to be disturbed. “We will find out from them when the funeral is going to be held, and whether you will able to attend. If any of you need someone to talk to, you are always welcome to stop by mine or Mr Frond's office. Again, I ask that you do not disturb the family during this time.”  
Noting that assembly was almost over, Spoors decided to let the students go out to break ten minutes early, unusual for him.

The children filed out of the room to the playground, most of them chattering about what they had just heard, however, most of Louise's class were silent. Regular-sized Rudy still looked shell shocked. His best friend was dead; he still couldn't believe it

As he had done the previous day, he slumped against the wall, sliding down to the floor.

“Can ya believe it?” Zeke's voice pulled Rudy out of his thoughts. The older boy sat down next to him. They were soon joined by most of the fourth-grade class, plus Jimmy Junior.

“They were so close,” said Rudy quietly.

“I know,” said Zeke, looking at the ground. “I can't believe she's gone.”

“Me, too,” whispered Rudy.

“This is so weird; I mean, it doesn't seem real,” said Abby. “We're never going to see her again.”

“I'm gon' miss that crazy l'il angel,” Zeke looked forlorn.

“I wonder how Tina and Gene are doing,” said Wayne.

“Listen, when they come back, don't no-one be makin' them upset,” said Zeke, lifting his gaze to look sternly at the group. “They got enough to deal with; don't bother them.”

“We wouldn't bother them,” said Harley.

“I know ya wouldn't mean to,” Zeke elaborated, “but they won't be wantin' to talk, or play, or nothin', so we gotta give 'em space.”

“God, I can't even imagine what it's like for them,” muttered Wayne. “This whole thing is crazy insane.”

“We can't be sayin' that stuff to 'em, though,” said Zeke. “They know how it feels, it ain't like we need to remind them.”

“It's so weird that Louise isn't here,” said Harley, pulling her knees up to her chest. “Like, I don't hear her yelling, and it's weird.”

“She'd probably be planning something,” Rudy rested his chin in his hand, “a scheme, or a prank; something that would make half of us laugh, and the other half scream.”

“Yep, that's Louise, all right,” Ollie nodded. “She always had the best ideas for pranks.”

“She used her powers for good, sometimes,” Zeke allowed a small smile to cross his face. “Y'all, I was so close to bein' sent away, and she used one of her big pranks to help me out. She didn't have to do that, and she did. Makes me tear up just thinkin' about it.” He wiped his eye.

“I never knew that,” said Rudy, “but it doesn't surprise me; Louise was always so much softer than she let on. Like, when it was my birthday party, and she got everyone to steal the bounce house so we could play in it.”

Like when she had panicked over his (fake) allergic reaction to chocolate. Like when she had kissed him, so he could have his first Valentine's kiss (and his first real kiss ever.) Rudy would never tell anyone about that; it felt like it should always be kept between the two of them. Besides, he knew Louise wouldn't want him to tell anyone about it, and she did threaten to end him if he ever did. Rudy had a sudden vision of Louise coming down from heaven to slap him across the face, and yell at him to keep it on the down low. It seemed like such a Louise thing to do that he looked up, almost expecting to see her.

“I think she was a little bit sad when Jessica moved away,” Harley revealed. “They became friends after the slumber party, you know, and they would kinda hang out together. When Jessica moved away, Louise got mean to us.”

“Oh, yeah.” Zeke chuckled slightly. “I remember them two with their heads together, and wonderin' whether we should be worried about what they were plannin'!”

“Yeah,” Rudy nodded. “You had to be careful when those two were about; talk about double trouble!”

The little group laughed and continued talking about Louise, about how she would do everything possible to drive Miss LaBonz crazy, about how she schemed to get out of pop quizzes. They remembered how she defended Mr Frond in court, despite hating his guts, and they spoke of her victory in the Freezer Dome.

It actually felt a little bit good to reminisce, about both the good times and the bad times.

* * *

The Belcher family were still at the chapel of rest. Bob had broken down in tears and had had to leave the room. When he re-entered, the rest of the family were still gathered around Louise. Gene kept touching Louise's hand.

“I don't want to rush you,” Mort began, “and I don't mean to put you on the spot, but have you ever considered... organ donation?”

“Oh, God,” Bob covered his mouth, looking like he was about to vomit. “Please, don't say that.”

“We haven't thought about it,” said Big Bob.

“We can't,” Bob shook his head. “We can't.. cut her up.” The thought of his baby not being buried whole was just unthinkable. He couldn't bear the thought of them taking things, things which belonged to her; her heart, her lungs, her kidneys. They belonged to Louise; she should keep them. She had to stay in one piece. “No, we can't do it,” he shook his head again, and Mort nodded.

“Do you know when the funeral's going to be held?” Mort asked gently, and the family turned to look at him.

“We – we hadn't even...” Bob began.

“Next Saturday,” said Tina. Everyone stared at her.

“But that's just over a week,” said Big Bob. “I'm not sure we can do that...”

“A little over a week is a little longer than we usually give, but we can pull some strings,” Mort said comfortingly. “Visiting hours will be over at five,” and then he left the room.

“I keep forgetting we have to plan a… funeral,” said Big Bob slowly.

“And in a weeks' time,” added Gayle.

Bob was just staring at Louise. He took his daughter's cold, lifeless hand. He was still holding it when five o'clock came and it was time for them to leave. The rest of the family walked to the doorway when they realised that Bob was still with Louise.

“Come on, son,” Big Bob went over to his son and placed his hand on his shoulders. Bob leant forward and kissed Louise on the forehead, squeezed her hand one final time and left the room.

“We're going back tomorrow, right?” asked Tina.

“We're going back every day,” was all Bob said.

When they arrived back at the apartment, the family silently sat together on the sofa None of them knew what to say.

“I – I can't...” Linda muttered, heading into the kitchen, where they heard the sound of a cork popping. She re-entered the living-room with a bottle of wine. Bob stared at the bottle. He _could_ drown his sorrows with alcohol; forgetting everything seemed like a good idea. He would forget the everlasting pain that Louise's death had left him with and finally get some relief. But that fuzzy voice said no, and he thought about Gene and Tina; him getting drunk out of his mind every night, tempting though it was, it wouldn't be a good idea. They needed him. He couldn't be so selfish when they needed each other now more than ever.

There was a knock at the door, and Gayle went to answer it. She came back into the living-room with Nadia.

“Evening, Mr and Mrs Belcher,” she began kindly. “I'm here to talk to you if that's okay?”

“What about?” asked Bob.

“About your daughter; I want to help you and your wife.”

“Don't need help,” Linda muttered, still holding the wine bottle.

“I can understand that it's easy to fall into denial,” she began gently, “but -”

“I'm not in denial no more,” said Linda. “I saw her. Today, I saw her. I saw my baby lying in a coffin. I know she's gone!”

Nadia moved forward, but Gayle got there first, and wrapped her arms around her sister.

“It's good that you've accepted it,” said Nadia. “But I want to let you know that I'm still here, whenever you want to talk.”

“Don't wanna talk.”

“Are you sure? Because -”

“Please, we just wanna be alone,” Linda buried her head in Gayle's shoulder, and Nadia looked around at the rest of her family.

“We just visited Louise for the first time today. It's been difficult,” said Big Bob quietly. “Could you maybe come back later?”

“Of course; it's fine,” Nadia rummaged around in her handbag. “This is my card,” she produced a small, laminated card, and quickly wrote something on the back. “And here's my number, so if any of you want to talk, at any time, just give me a call.”

“Okay, thanks,” nodded Big Bob.

“Has anyone recommended counselling yet?” she asked, and they shook their heads.

“Counselling?”

“It can be very beneficial for grieving families. I wouldn't force you, but I ask that you think about it,” she finished.

“Okay, we will,” said Bob, just wanting the woman to leave.

“Goodbye. I'll see myself out, don't worry. Call if you need to,” she said, before descending the stairs, and letting herself out.

“I – I guess we should start with the funeral plans,” said Tina bravely, not long after Nadia had left. Her parents would never do it. Her brother was.. still not talking, and the rest of the adults were too busy grieving, so she knew it was up to her to get things started.

“All right. What should we do?” asked Al. Bob only shook his head, while Linda gulped from the bottle.

“Well,” began Gloria, “we could...” but she didn't finish her sentence.

“Maybe a -” but Gayle drifted off. They sat in silence for a rather long amount of time.

“We don't know what she would have wanted,” Big Bob realised, causing the rest of the family to look at him. Of course, how could they have known? They'd never expected this, and Louise had naturally never mentioned anything.

“How about... balloons? Kuchi Kopi ones, and heart balloons?” suggested Tina, and they nodded in approval.

“Yeah, giant ones,” said Gayle.

“And flowers,” said Gloria. “We must have flowers.”

“And Louise's favourite songs being played.”

“Yeah, and a church service.”

“What about hymns?” asked Gloria.

“Louise doesn't like hymns,” Tina told her.

“But you have to have a hymn at a church service.”

“I don't think the priest would mind,” Tina reasoned, and Gloria fell quiet. Tina was writing everything down.

“What should the headstone say?” Gayle asked and the family fell quiet again.

“I don't know,” said Big Bob. “What do you think?” he turned to Bob, who looked exhausted and shrugged. He truthfully didn't know what his daughter's headstone ought to say. He wasn't prepared for this; how was he supposed to know? This shouldn't be happening; he should not be organising his child's funeral. “Why don't we sleep on it, and discuss it tomorrow, when we've had a chance to think?” Big Bob suggested.

“Good idea,” said Gayle.

“Listen, son,” Big Bob put his hand on his son's shoulder. “I know this is hard, but I have to leave, but I'll be back tomorrow.” Unfortunately, he needed to go back to his restaurant. He embraced his son, as well as Linda and the kids, before leaving.

“We have to go, too,” Gloria looked as though she didn't want to. “But we'll be back in the morning; we're staying with Gayle.”

“Bye,” said Bob monotonously, as the three of them rose and left, as well.

It now seemed even quieter, and the four Belchers remained in their seats, avoiding eye contact. Tina gripped her pen and notepad to keep her hands from shaking. Linda was slouching in the chair, her eyes unfocused and glassy, the wine bottle in her slack hand. Bob was staring at a photo of the kids, taken when they went to a classic car exhibition last summer. Linda had corralled the kids together for a picture in front of the DeLorean. They had all looked so happy.

“I think I'll go to bed now, Dad,” said Tina, after a while, and Bob nodded absent-mindedly. “Love you,” she said, planting a kiss on his cheek.

“Love you too,” said Bob.

“Love you, Mom,” said Tina, and she kissed Linda, as well.

“Love you, sweetie,” Linda didn't lift her head, and her voice was slightly slurred.

Tina left the room, with Gene at her heels. As they walked down the hallway, Tina thought about how rarely she told her parents that she loved them. She did, of course, and she knew that they knew, she just seldom said it out loud. They were a very loving family, they just didn't announce it every moment of the day. Tina decided that she was going to change that, she was going to make sure that the last thing she would say to her parents before leaving the house or going to bed would be 'I love you.' Even though they had exchanged their 'I love you's' with Louise, it felt to Tina as though they hadn't. To her, it sometimes didn't feel as though it counted, as it hadn't been the very last thing they had said to Louise. She felt like she had missed her final chance to tell Louise she loved her.

She did not immediately climb into bed. She pulled the notepad out of her pocket and carried it over to her desk. Gene sat down next to her. Did Louise know how much they loved her, Tina wondered as she sat at her desk. She sincerely hoped so, because, in spite of Louise's teasing and general craziness, she was a great sister and Tina had always adored her.

Finding the funeral plans, she turned to the next page and started to expand upon them.

 _'Date: Saturday,'_ she wrote neatly, remembering the date she'd decided.

 _'Time:,'_ she paused, not knowing what time the funeral should be held. Tina looked down at her paper and fully realised what she was doing; she was making funeral plans for her baby sister, and once it was over, she would never see her again. She quickly opened the laptop and changed the background picture to a photo of her, Louise, and Gene together. Feeling.. not better at all, she turned her attention back to the funeral plans. Tina knew that it was up to her. _'Time: 11:00am,'_ she wrote. _'I'm writing a story; that's all I'm doing. Just writing a story,'_ she told herself.

 _'Location: St. Peter's Cathedral, Seymour's Bay._ She remembered going there once on a school trip when she was little. She couldn't remember the reason, but she remembered the church vividly. It looked just like pictures she had seen in a book once. It was a nice place.

 _'Reverend:'._ Tina left that blank for the moment; she would have to speak with the priest, or whoever did.. funerals.

_'Service: inside the church.'_

_'Open casket or closed: Open,'_ Tina eventually decided, sure that her family would want to see Louise one last time.

 _'Eulogy,'_ she paused again. Who was going to deliver the eulogy? It would have to be a family member; she knew that much. Again, she left it blank, the teen deciding to focus on what she could arrange right now.

 _'Pallbearer(s): Dad? Pop-pop?'_ How would Bob and Pop-pop be able to carry Louise's coffin, she pondered, leading her to make another note.

 _'Coffin: we will pick one out together.'_ Tina paused to wait for her hands to stop shaking.

 _'Burial:'_ she paused again. Where would Louise be buried? Apart from her paternal grandmother, she couldn't think of anybody in her family that had died. But Grandma Belcher died years and years before Tina was born, so it didn't really count.

She would come back to the location of the burial later, and moved on to the next item.

 _'Clothing: all in black or bright colours?'_ she thought, her pencil hovering over the paper. “What do you think, Gene? Black clothes, or bright clothes?” As she expected, Gene didn't answer, or even look at her. Eventually, she decided on everyone wearing black as she couldn't imagine anything else for a funeral service. Tina knew that some people preferred to wear the deceased's favourite colours or wear bright clothing as a celebration of their life, but as funerals were usually a sombre affair and a time to mourn, Tina felt that black clothing was more appropriate.

_'Flowers: roses? Probably; they are a symbol of love. Or perhaps her name spelt out in flowers. Both.'_

' _Balloons: giant Kuchi Kopi ones. Heart-shaped balloons. Party shop in OMG Mall? Or perhaps e-Buy?”_

 _'Music:'_ again, she hesitated. Boyz 4 Now didn't have any appropriate songs for this type of event. Tina looked over at Gene, wondering... No. She couldn't ask him to do that; she couldn't ask him to compose a song about the loss of their baby sister. “Right, songs,” she muttered, opening up YouTube.

Tina soon found that she couldn't even bear to listen to any of the songs she found, and so focused on reading the lyrics. None of them seemed right. She couldn't find any that were good enough. Things like “I Will Always Love You,” and “My Heart Will Go On,” just didn't have the message she was looking for. Nor did “Angel,” or “Wind Beneath My Wings.” Tina shook her head. Just a couple of songs; that was all she needed. Just a few decent songs that could sum up how they were feeling.

She needed to keep busy. “What songs do you think we should have for the – for that day?” she asked. Gene stared blankly ahead. “Gene? Gene, please talk to me.” Tina took a deep breath. She couldn't fall apart, not now. If she did, then nothing would get done, and she couldn't do that to Louise. “So, I think we should have a few songs playing while everyone is walking into the church. I don't know how many, though; it depends on how many people come.” A new thought occurred to her. “How many people should come?” Again, Gene didn't answer. “I guess we can make it so whoever wants to, can go.” She nodded to herself and continued writing.

_'Reception: right here._

_'Food/drinks: sandwiches, cheese and crackers, cocktail sausages, potato wedges with dip, pizza fingers, and cake,'_ Tina wrote after checking the laptop for typical funeral reception food, picking the ones that Louise would have liked. She added, _'coffee, juice and soda,'_ for the drinks.

Reading through her list, she appeared to be almost done. Her eyes caught the word 'reception' and she stopped to think; how should it go? Should everyone get up and say something nice about Louise? Should there be photos? Videos? How many people should she invite?

Tina quickly jotted these thoughts down at the bottom of the page before turning off the light and climbing into bed, with Gene following her.

Once again, she did not immediately drop off; the events from the day were racing around in her head, not to mention all the planning that she had to do. Gene's hand found hers in the dark, and she squeezed it.

She eventually fell asleep, her photo album lying next to her once again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And done.  
> So, Tina's undertaking this huge task, poor girl.  
> I have spent way too much time researching morgues and funeral homes, and now I'm probably on a list.  
> What did you think? I'd love to know. If anyone is confused about Jessica, I began writing this last year, before I saw the Wharfy episode. I didn't think we were ever going to see Jessica again, so I made it so she had moved away.  
> I hope everyone has fun over the holidays. Stay safe.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, everyone, I hope you all had a nice Christmas/holiday period. I ate far too much, and I regret nothing :D Although I couldn't see my best friend, we did play Monopoly online, which was great.  
> So, to kick off New Year's Eve Eve Eve Eve, here's a little dose of sadness for you, haha.   
> There will be some language in this chapter. I don't think it will upset anyone, but this is just a little heads up.

Learning to Live Without You

Chapter 3

Tina awoke the next morning, feeling drained. She grabbed her notebook, possibly the only thing keeping her sane, and headed into the kitchen.

Bob was standing in front of the cooker, as if hoping breakfast would make itself, and Linda was nowhere to be seen.

“Morning, Dad,” she said quietly.

“Morning, Tina.” Bob did not look up from the oven, and she saw that he was holding the Kuchi Kopi mug.

“I think I should go to school today,” she murmured. She needed _something_ to feel normal, but she wasn't sure if she could handle the staring.

“You know it's Saturday, right?” he said quietly, still not looking at her.

“Oh,” was all Tina said. Gene silently entered the room, and sat down next to her. Bob turned and slid some eggs onto their plates. They hadn't even been cooked. “I'm not hungry,” she said, and Bob only nodded, his fixed on the oven again. “Are we – are we gonna open the restaurant today?” she asked.

“No,” Bob said, still staring at the oven.

“Okay,” she whispered. She didn't know why she asked; it wasn't as if she cared. Tina didn't care if Bob never opened the restaurant again, and she didn't care if he opened it up right that second.

She glanced up at Bob and saw that he was still staring at the oven, and she looked over at Gene, who was looking blankly ahead.

Tina ducked her head, and affixed her gaze to her knees, not knowing what else to do.

* * *

Cynthia, Logan, and Tom sat at the breakfast table, all of them silent. Tom had the newspaper beside him, but he wasn't reading it, and Cynthia was clutching her coffee cup so tightly she thought it would shatter, tensely tapping the ceramic with her nails. Logan had his forehead resting in his hand staring down at the table.

“I'm not going to school any more,” he said hoarsely.

“Wouldn't expect you to.” Cynthia's voice was terse.

“They'll probably beat me up,” he said, for what must have been the 100th time, and Cynthia nodded. He'd not gone to school on that Wednesday, and had spent his morning at the Steps. When he'd found out that Louise had died, he had instantly gone home, not wanting to face anyone's wrath. He'd not left the house since.

“Well, I should get going, or else I'll be late,” said Tom, standing up.

“Oh, before you do, I left some bags in the car. Let me just grab them.” While Cynthia left, Tom and Logan remained silent, neither of them making eye contact. Tom didn't know what to say; the child was dead, what could he say?

“I wonder what's keeping your mother,” he said after a while, heading to the open front door. He saw Cynthia standing on the path in front of the porch steps, looking up at the house. But Tom didn't notice that; he was too busy looking at the car. The windscreen had been smashed, the tyres deflated, and someone had spray-painted “murderer” down the side. “Cynthia?” he covered his mouth in shock, stumbling down the steps. “What -” he turned to see what she was looking at.

Their house had been egged, and the words “killer,” and “murderer” had been spray-painted in huge block letters onto every available surface, even the front door. “Oh my God,” he whispered, looking horrified. “Who did this?”

“The Belchers; they must have,” said Cynthia.

“They couldn't have.”

“Yes, they could!” She shrieked. “It's them! I'm gonna call the police!” She shook her head, staring up at the house. “But first, I'll get someone out to clean this up.”

“Okay,” Tom nodded. “I've gotta get to work, but I'll get someone to fix the car.” He kissed Cynthia on the cheek, before calling a taxi. They had another car in the garage, but the vandalised car was parked in front of it.

Cynthia went back inside, deciding not to tell Logan. Well, at least not right away; he'd find out soon enough, but there was no need to tell him now. When she'd eventually told him that a knife-welding Bob had been looking for him, Logan had been understandably terrified.

She sat back down at the table, willing her hands to stop shaking. This was bad, and it was probably going to get worse. Logan couldn't leave the house, and she wasn't so keen on doing it, either. She dreaded to think what would happen when she decided to venture out somewhere.

Pulling out her phone, she pulled up Facebook, intending to let people know, when she saw she had a few missed texts, and she opened them.

_'Your son is a piece of shit,'_ came the first, and her jaw dropped.

' _Congrats on raising a killer.',_

_'Logan better not go outside if he knows what's good for him.'_

“What is it?” Logan's voice jolted her from her thoughts.

“Nothing. Just spam,” she said, placing her phone back in her pocket. This was something else he didn't need to know.

Okay, Bob and Linda were upset; she understood, she got it. But, sending messages like that was not okay, and she wanted to make sure they knew that. Sending threats was unacceptable, and Cynthia believed that going to the police was the best course of action.

The voice of Olsen Benner on the television caused her to look up, and she saw that the reporter was at Wharf Park.

“ _Residents continue to lay tributes for little Louise Belcher,”_ she said, standing near the well site, the park long free of the machinery which had taken up residence there for so long. _The nine-year-old died three days ago from injuries sustained from being trapped in a well, and locals continue to leave flowers, candles and toys at the spot where she passed away.”_

The camera panned down to the well, which was surrounded by bouquets of roses and other flowers; teddies, letters, and photos. Cynthia saw several people leaving their offerings, and she hesitated. The police could wait, she decided; she'd give Bob and Linda a little time to get their heads together, and would let them off.

However, she resolved to get it sorted if it happened again.

* * *

“Tina, Gene, I think you guys should stay home today,” said Bob. They were in the living-room, joined by a disoriented Linda, along with Big Bob, Al, Gloria, and Gayle, waiting for everyone to be ready.

“What? Why?” she asked.

“Well, I just.. don't think it's good for you to be there all day.”

“It's good for you,” Tina muttered, too numb to be surprised by her answering back. “We're going; we have to see her.”

Bob opened his mouth, before closing it. He nodded weakly, and they left to make their daily trip to visit Louise.

Inside the Chapel of Rest, Tina stared at her baby sister. Her baby sister's body. When would it become real, she wondered? Even now, looking down at Louise, it didn't compute. After the.. funeral, they were never going to see her ever again. There would be no more arguing over who would mop the floors, no more witty, smart-aleck responses. There would be no more games of Throw Louise. No more being dragged into her crazy schemes, with them only able to wait until she pulled herself back to reality. No more of anything, because she was gone. Gone forever.

Maybe it was because she looked so peaceful. To casually observe Louise, one would think she was sleeping, never guessing what she had been through before she...

Maybe it was the make-up, Tina thought. Her stomach churned when she remembered that the copious amounts of foundation were covering bruises, eye bags, and blackened limbs. She was struck with a sudden urge to wipe it all off, to see Louise all natural. Louise hates – hated – wearing make-up; Tina should take it off before her sister got mad.

It had become a sort of morbid routine for the Belcher family; every day, they would go to the Chapel of Rest and stay there until it was closing time. They were loathe to leave Louise there on her own. They needed to spend as much time with her as they possibly could. They only had a week left with her.

This time, they had brought some things for Louise. Bob leaned down and placed a photo of the Belcher family on her chest, so that she wouldn't be alone.

Linda produced Kuchi Kopi from her handbag, and Bob gasped quietly.

“Are you sure, Lin?” he asked quietly. “You...” but he trailed off, unable to finish his sentence.

“You'll need it more than she will,” continued Big Bob gently.

“No; Kuchi Kopi belongs with her; she needs him,” Linda whispered, tucking the night light in the crook of Louise's arm.

Gayle placed the largest jawbreaker she could find under one of Louise's hands.

Lastly, Al and Gloria placed a blanket over her, the one Gloria had bought for her when Louise was a baby. It was a plain white blanket with frilled edges, but Gloria had prettied it up by stitching pink and green ribbon along the edges. They both tucked in the edges as though they was tucking her into bed.

“In case she gets cold,” was all Gloria said.

Mort approached silently, respectfully.

“If you want,” he began quietly. “I could give each of you a lock of her hair.” They all looked at him.

“Her hair?” repeated Linda.

“Only if you want,” he clarified. “It's something we offer.”

“But.. it's her hair.” Bob couldn't fathom Louise having her hair cut; she hated anyone touching her hair. She'd also hated having it long, which was the only reason she allowed – used to allow – Linda to trim it.

“It's completely up to you,” said Mort.

“I'd like a lock of her hair,” Linda nodded. She needed something, something physical to hold. Something to carry with her forever.

“I do, too,” said Tina.

“Can we.. each have some?” asked Bob quietly, and Mort nodded.

“You can all have a piece, and it won't affect the way her hair looks,” he told them.

“Okay, thank you,” whispered Linda, before turning her attention back to her daughter.

“We do offer something else,” said Mort after a while, and they looked at him again. “We could make some plaster casts of her hands, if you wanted?” Bob's breath caught in his throat.

“That's a nice idea,” he choked. “I like that. How – how would it work?”

“There are two things we can do. The first one is to place her hand in some plaster of Paris, and it'll look like a circle of clay with her handprint. And the second one is to place her hand into a bucket, and it'll make a mould of her entire hand. That one can be shaped any way you want.”

“Any way?” asked Tina, and Mort nodded.

“If you chose that one, we could arrange it, so that you could all hold her hand, and the cast will come out that way.”

“Oh, that's nice,” Gayle whispered, needing to sit down.

“Have a think about it, and let me know,” said Mort.

“I like the idea of us holding her hand; it's like we'd be holding her hand forever,” muttered Gloria, and Gayle nodded.

“Could we do both?” asked Tina, and Mort nodded.

“Of course; that's no problem. We could do the hand-holding ones later today, if you want? And then, the casts will be ready in a few weeks.”

“Sure,” Bob choked.

“Okay, we'll do it today,” he said. “I'll get the materials all ready for you for later.”

As promised, Mort returned a few hours later with the materials. “What would you like to do first?” he asked.

“Uh... I think the handprint,” whispered Linda, tearing her eyes away from her daughter.

“Okay. Well, the Plaster of Paris is ready.” He paused slightly. “How many would you like?”

“Can we have one each?” asked Bob. He couldn't bear not having one of his own.

“Of course; that's no problem.” As Mort stepped forward, the family shuffled back. Silently, they watched as he lifted Louise's arm, and gently placed her hand into the mixture, spreading the fingers out, and pressing them down. He lifted it out, and wiped it clean, before repeating the process.

When he'd finished, he placed the casts off to one side, before returning to Louise. “I'm going to do the hand casts, now,” he told them, bringing a bucket over to the coffin. “Who would like to go first?”

“I will,” Linda stepped forward, rolled up her sleeve, and took her daughter's hand. Mort placed his hand on her arm, and guided it into the bucket. When Mort gave the word, Linda removed her hand, and cleaned it. Bob stepped forward, and wrapped his hand around Louise's now clean one. Tina hesitated slightly before taking her turn. She'd not touched Louise's hand since.. they first came here. It was still cold, and she wasn't sure if she liked the feeling, and she couldn't help but groan slightly as her hand was placed into the bucket.

“Gene...” Bob gestured for his son to come on up. Gene remained where he was, staring with wide eyes at his little sister. His face was blank, but he had a frightened look about his eyes.

“Gene?” Big Bob made to approach the boy, but Gene moved forward stiffly, slowly approaching the coffin. He gently clasped Louise's hand, his face paling. Gene kept his eyes on the bucket, unable to look at Louise's face.

Once everyone had done their individual hand casts, they all gathered round, and all of them held onto Louise's hand for a family cast. Bob couldn't help but cry as he wiped his hand down, before he and Linda took their baby's hand, for another cast. After that, they were joined by Gene and Tina. They had Louise's hand in the centre, curled into a loose fist, with their hands gently caressing hers.

Then, Al and Gloria had their own casts made, before Gayle had one of her own, and Big Bob had his done, too.

Finally, Louise's hand was put back into the bucket for an individual hand cast, which would then be replicated for every member of the family.

“The sculptures will be ready in a few days,” Mort told them, picking up the bucket. “And when you come by tomorrow, I'll give you the locks of hair,” he said, before giving them some privacy.

* * *

Once again, Cynthia Bush stared in horror as she stood outside her home, holding a small pile of mail. Tears filled her eyes as she looked up at her once beautiful house. Just as before, their home had been egged, and spray-painted. Again, the words, “killer,” murderer,” “evil,” and “27/02/19” stared back her, appearing to taunt her. Cynthia read the date over and over again, before she realised that it was the day Louise had died.

This time, however, the bushes had been ripped up, and scattered about the porch, as had the flowers. The sensor light by the front door had been torn down and smashed, and dog excrement was smeared on the steps.

She'd told Tom that it was the Belchers, and she still believed that, but now she was getting worried. Seeing her house like this, knowing that there were people out there who wanted to hurt her and her family, was frightening.

Gripping the mail tightly, she went back into the house. Logan and Tom were in the kitchen, and so she sat down in the living-room, and went through the envelopes one by one.

“Bills,” she muttered, tossing them aside, before opening the next one.

“ _Your son is vermin for killing that little girl. How do you feel knowing you raised a murderer? Logan is nothing but a bastard who deserves to be hanged, and he better watch himself when he goes out, and the same goes for you.”_

Cynthia raised a shaking hand to her mouth as she read the letter, and she picked up the phone. “Hello, police?” she said, once she had been put through. “My house has been vandalised for the second time, and I've got threatening letters in the mail.” As the officer spoke to her, Cynthia flipped through the rest of the letters; all of which were threats against her son. She was so shaken that she was barely able to understand what the policeman was saying, but she heard enough to agree to take photographs, and to come down to the station, and file a report. She hung up, her hands shaking.

“Oh, there you are, I was wondering what – what's wrong?” Tom noticed her face. Cynthia said nothing, and held out the letters. As Tom read through them, he paled.

“What should we do?” he asked.

“I'm going to the station, and making a report,” she said.

“And then what?”

“I don't know; a fine, or whatever it is they do to vandals.”

“Do you still think it was Belchers?”

“Yes. It must be. They're upset, I get that, but this isn't going to help.”

“What isn't gonna help?”

Tom and Cynthia looked up to see Logan in the doorway. Tom quickly hid the letters behind his back.

“... Look outside,” was all Cynthia found she could say. Logan gave them a confused look, but nonetheless did what he was told. As soon as he was gone, the parents exchanged looks, and Logan came in, a look of shock upon his face.

“Who did that?” he asked quietly.

“The Belchers,” said Cynthia, putting the hate letters into her purse.

“Well, we don't know for sure,” said Tom reasonably, “we only think so.”

“Who else would vandalise our home?!” his wife snapped. “And why? There's no one else it can be!” she finished, storming out of the house, and to the second car.

Before too long, she found herself in an office of the Oceanside Police Station, with two officers, explaining everything that had happened.

“Well, thank you for coming down here, ma'am,” said one of the officers when she had finished talking.

“I'd like some of your men to be patrolling my street; I'd feel a lot safer,” she said, while filling out the forms required.

“Well, ma'am, our officers do go out on patrol, but I'm afraid we can't have them on your street 24/7,” one officer told her.

“Why not?”

“We don't have the resources.”

“But my family is being targeted!” Cynthia sputtered.

“Ma'am, do you have any suspects that you think did this? Because if so, we can go and have a talk with them.”

“Yes; I believe the Belchers did it.”

Upon hearing that, both officers looked up at her.

“The family of the little girl who died are vandalising your home, is that what you're saying?”

“Yes.”

“And do you have any evidence that it's them? Any videos, photos?”

“Well, no; but we'll be installing cameras after this. But I really do think it's them; who else would do something like this?”

“I don't know, ma'am, but we will go over and have a talk with them. If they are the ones doing this, then we can put a stop to this. And if it's not, then we can discuss further options.” 

“What further options?!” Cynthia spat. “My family are living in fear! My son can't go out; he's afraid of what will happen to him! What about the letters?”

“If we can find out who sent them, then we can charge them, as it's harassment. If it continues, you can take it to civil court.”

“Do you have insurance?” asked the other officer.

“Yes, they helped us the last time.”

“Okay, that's helpful; be sure to keep copies of the forms they give you, as you'll probably need them in the future.”

“I will.”

“Okay, thank you again for coming down, ma'am; we'll look into this right away.”

* * *

The Belchers remained at the Chapel of Rest until closing time, as usual, and they silently left. Leaving was one of the hardest things for them; leaving Louise all alone there, especially since they were just next door; so close.

This time, however, there was a crowd outside their door. Bob stared at them; he felt like he should know who they were, but he was struggling to place any of them. He did notice that all of them were holding large platters, and bowls, and, upon closer inspection, they appeared to be casseroles, cakes, and other such things.

“Bobby!” called a familiar voice, and someone he was sure he knew, wearing a blue shirt and grey beanie, stepped up to him. “Bobby!” the man repeated, pulling him into a tight hug, which Bob did not return. The only person he wanted to hug was his youngest daughter. The others were talking to him, as well, surrounding him and his family, but they might as well have been speaking gibberish.

Somehow, he found himself back upstairs in the apartment, sat on the sofa, with what seemed like half the town squished inside. “Bobby, we're all worried about you,” said Teddy, sitting next to him. “We're worried about everyone.”

The group of friends spread out through the living-room, while the ones who had brought food took their items to the kitchen. The Belchers now had enough food to see them through the week, and possibly beyond that. Wanting to avoid saying the wrong thing, they were mainly silent. None of them knew quite what to say, anyway; nothing like this had ever happened before. Seymour's Bay was a small town; practically everyone knew everyone else, and even Edith and Harold couldn't remember any children dying at such a young age, nor in the way Louise had.

All those words of supposed comfort; 'she's in a better place now', 'you'll feel better soon' absolutely did not need to be said; they would not help at all. The Belchers needed support, and that was not the way to go. They couldn't even spare the poor family a bit of consolation and say, 'at least she didn't suffer', because Louise had suffered throughout those five terrible days, and everyone knew it.

Bob couldn't focus on Teddy's voice. Next week, he would be burying his daughter, his baby. In seven days, he would have to say goodbye to her forever. He'd never see her again, he would never speak to her again. And then what was he supposed to do? Bob swallowed; seeing Louise every day was quite perhaps the only thing keeping him sane. When she was gone, buried... he was afraid of what was going to happen.

“... So, anyway,” said Gretchen, “if there's anything we can do, just say the word.”

“Thanks,” he croaked, clenching his fists on his knees, the feeling keeping him grounded.

“When is the funeral?” asked Mickey.

“It's – it's,” Bob found he couldn't speak.

“It's next Saturday at 11am,” said Tina, and they looked at her. “You can all come,” she added quietly.

Tina looked around as the adults gathered around them. She recognised lots of people; Marshmallow, Mike the mail man, Critter, Mudflap, Reggie, Art the artist, Patricia the sandwich lady. Lots of adults, but no kids, and she couldn't think why.

She could sense them staring at her, itching to ask how she was doing, and so she quickly excused herself, and retreated to her room. She waited a few moments before closing the door, knowing that Gene would follow, and he did. “I have an idea, Gene,” she said. “We can each write a letter to Louise. A letter about anything. And then, when we next go and see her, we can.. we can give it to her. How does that sound?” Tina felt guilty for not bringing anything for Louise; but she'd had trouble finding the perfect thing. Now she realised a letter would be good.

She turned to face him. Gene had sunk down on the edge of her bed, just staring ahead of him. It worried Tina; how long before they should be really worried? What if Gene never spoke again? “Gene?” she said softly, walking over to him. “Do you want to write a letter to Louise?” Nothing. “Gene?” Sitting down, she hugged him tightly. After a while, he hugged back. “Shall we write our letters?” she asked. Gene didn't nod, or shake his head, but he followed her to her desk, and sat beside her.

Tina wasn't sure what she had in mind when she began her letter; she didn't plan anything out. She wrote down the things she'd always wanted to say to Louise, but had never gotten the chance. She wrote of how she would always remember her, and would think of her every day. Tina quickly filled two sheets of paper on both sides, as did Gene. “We'll read them later,” she said, knowing that she didn't have the strength to read through hers, let alone Gene's.

They re-emerged a short while later, to find that everyone had left, and Tina breathed a slight sigh of relief. She could hear parents voices coming from the kitchen, along with the voice of that Nadia lady, talking to them.

“Are you kids okay?” asked Big Bob, and Tina nodded.

“We just, uh, wrote some letters to Louise,” she said.

“That's nice,” he said, smiling lightly.

“We're going to give them to her tomorrow.”

Big Bob only nodded, unable to look at them. There came a knock at the door, and he went to answer it.

As it had been over the past three days, the television was still off. Tina was afraid of what she would see if she turned it on, but, at the same time, she also wanted some mindless background noise to fill the awful silence that permeated throughout the apartment. She knew she couldn't bear to see anything to do with Louise, and so she left it off.

Big Bob returned, followed by two policemen.

“Wait here, please,” he gestured for them to sit, which they did, and Big Bob left the room, coming back not long after with Bob and Linda. Tina eyed the two officers curiously, wondering what they wanted.

“Hello, Mr and Mrs. Belcher,” began officer McCarthy gently, taking in their ragged appearances. “I know this is a difficult time for you, but we have a few questions.”

“What?” Bob ran his hand through his unruly hair, while Linda just sank into the armchair. The two officers rose, and offered Bob the sofa.

“Are you aware that Cynthia Bush's home has been vandalised?” asked officer McCarthy, as Bob sat down. Bob only shook his head. Already, they could tell that it wasn't Bob and Linda who had done it, just judging on how out of it they were, but they still had to ask the questions.

“What happened?” asked Big Bob.

“Well, the Bush family home has been spray-painted, their car has been defaced, and there has been excrement put on their steps. They've also gotten threatening letters, and texts. This is the second time it's happened,” explained officer Powell. “They're.. claiming that you did it,” he finished. Now, they were all staring at him.

“What?” Linda looked up, her head falling onto her shoulder.

“That's why we're here; to get your side of the story.”

“We didn't do it,” said Bob, his head in his hands.

“All right, sir, is there anyone, outside of family, who can corroborate your story?” asked McCarthy delicately. Bob's head whipped up, his haunted, dull eyes looking at the officer.

“We've been visiting my daughter in the funeral home,” he hissed, “all day, every day; you can ask Mort next door. I don't care about the Bushes; I don't care what happens to them. We're spending time with Louise.”

“Thank you, sir; we'll go next door and check. Thanks for your co-operation.” The two officers said their goodbyes, and left.

After the policemen had shown themselves out, the family sat there in silence, unable to speak.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Done. What did you think? I really enjoyed bringing Cynthia and Logan back.  
> I hope you all have a safe and fun New Year!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It seems that with every update, I have worse and worse news. I have been diagnosed with Coronavirus, and the country is back in national lockdown. I hope you can understand if there is a slight delay on future chapters. I hope to keep on schedule, but this is just a heads up.  
> Anyway, here is the latest chapter, I hope you enjoy reading.

Learning to Live Without You

Chapter 4

Monday morning, and Tina awoke, and after dressing, went into the kitchen. Linda wasn't there, but Bob was standing aimlessly in front of the sink.

“Morning, Dad,” she said, taking a seat.

“Morning,” he said just as quietly, placing a bowl of cereal in front of her, with no milk. It seemed to be the only meal he could make. “Where's Gene?”

“Where's Mom?” was all Tina said in reply.

As if on cue, Linda entered the kitchen; there were dark circles under her eyes, and she was holding Bakeneko.

“Tina, are you sure you wanna go to school today?” she asked, noticing Tina's backpack set beside her chair.

“Yeah; it might make everything seem normal,” she replied. Linda only nodded.

Tina kept her eyes on her bowl as she heard Gene sit down beside her. Like her, he picked at his cereal. That was when Tina began to realise that something was really wrong; Gene never not ate. She didn't know what she could do, though. “Dad, are you gonna open the restaurant today?” she asked, already knowing the answer.

“No.” Bob didn't see the point. How was he supposed to go downstairs and cook? Why should he be expected to do that? He didn't care about money, or paying rent, or anything. Nothing mattered any more.

Once at school, Tina clutched Gene's hand, and they walked through the halls together. Could she do this? Could she handle the constant questions and the pitying stares? She gave Gene a nervous look; she had no idea how he was going to fare, as he was still mute.

“Hey, T-Bird,” came a quiet voice, and she looked up to see Zeke in front of her. Behind him were Tammy, Jocelyn, Jimmy Jr., and Regular-sized Rudy, along with a few others. She stared at him, not trusting herself to speak. “Mr Frond wants to see ya both.”

She still didn't speak. “Do y'all want me to take ya there?” he asked, and Tina nodded after a moment. “All right, then,” he nodded, and began walking next to them.

They walked in silence, Tina and Gene staring straight ahead, ignoring the other students, and Zeke glancing over at them every so often. At Frond's office, Zeke waited outside, while the Belcher siblings walked in.

“Morning,” said Frond quietly, as Gene and Tina sat down. “I think you're both very brave for coming in today,” he told them. “Just know, that you can come here whenever you need to; whether you want to talk or not. If you just want some privacy, feel free to come here.”

“Okay,” said Tina.

“The teachers all know, of course, and they will go easy on you. If things get too much, you also have Mr Ambrose's permission to go to library. And, if you really want, then we can send you home.”

“Okay,” Tina repeated.

“I'm going to speak to Louise's class after lunch; students from other grades are welcome to attend, but neither of you have to be there; it's completely up to you.”

Tina nodded, and Mr Frond looked over at Gene. “Okay, Gene? This all applies to you, too.”

Gene, as per usual now, did not answer.

“He's.. okay,” said Tina. “Just upset,” and Frond nodded. Louise's locker had already been emptied before school started that morning, and the contents were now sitting in a box on Frond's desk. He planned to give them to the Belcher family when school was over. He had already phoned the parents, planning on expressing his condolences on behalf of the entire school, but no one had answered.

After, they left, Zeke escorted them both to their classes; Gene first, because he had different classes to the two of them.

In the classroom, Tina could feel eyes on her, but she alternated between staring straight ahead, and looking down at her workbook. She only spoke once, to answer for the morning register, but other than that, she remained silent.

Tina was able to spend the first few hours of school doing what she did every single day; trying to focus on the teacher, and trying to focus on her work. She wasn't very good at either, but it helped to take her mind off of Louise.

No matter what, she couldn't get up the interest in Jimmy Jr.'s butt; ordinarily, she wouldn't be able to keep her eyes off it, but she just didn't care any more.

Nobody questioned her about Louise, which she was grateful for, and she wondered how Gene was faring in his classes. Thinking about him being away from her when he was in this state, made her feel sick with worry.

Gene was... well, he looked at the teacher when she spoke. But that was it.

“Amy?”

“Here?”

“Jacqueline?”

“Here?”

“Gene?” When she did not get an answer his teacher looked up, and saw him sitting there, staring at her. “Gene?” Now, people were turning to look, whispering, but Gene didn't seem to see them. Knowing that he was understandably upset, she marked him as present, and continued with registration.

At break-time, Zeke once again accompanied Tina down the hall, but this time, Jimmy Jr. was hovering awkwardly behind them. Tina wanted him to talk to her, to say something, but she also didn't want him to speak.

Meeting up with Gene, the four of them headed into the playground. Tina stood, looking at all the happy, playing kids. It wasn't fair! Louise should be one of those kids; she should be running around, yelling excitedly, but she wasn't. Tina clenched her fists, and shook her head slightly.

She was just about to turn around and head into the library, when Regular-sized Rudy came up to them.

“H-hi,” he said awkwardly, and Tina finally found her tongue.

“Hi.” They stood there in silence for a few moments until Rudy spoke again.

“So, uh... how are you feelin'?” he didn't know what else to say. Truthfully, he still felt a little bit lost; his best friend was dead.

“The way you would expect,” replied Tina, in no mood to be polite.

“... I'm sorry,” Rudy said finally.

“Thank you.” They stood there silently again.

“I-is it all right if I come to the... the...?”

“Yes,” said Tina and Rudy looked relieved. “And the reception, if you want. It's at our house.”

“O-okay. Thanks,” and he walked off, not knowing what else to do.

“Listen, Tina,” said Zeke, stepping in front of them, and casting a worried glance over at Gene, “if y'all wanna go back inside, just say the word.”

“I think we'll be fine,” said Tina mechanically, sitting down against the wall.

“Well, if you're sure,” Zeke didn't look too convinced as Gene slumped down next to her. “I'll be right over there,” he gestured, “so if ya need me, just yell.”

“Okay.”

The rest of the day was a blur; Tina found that she couldn't actually concentrate on anything. Everything just seemed to go in one ear and out of the other. “I can't do this any more,” she muttered to Gene in the hall after fourth period. “I'm going to the library, are you coming?” She didn't have to ask, and they both knew that, but she did, just to try and make things seem normal.

Not caring about skipping, only knowing that she couldn't take being in class any longer, Tina headed to the library, with Gene following.

They walked right past Mr Ambrose, and headed to the quiet study area at the back. Tina just needed somewhere quiet to think. Or not think. Or just sit. Whatever. Sinking into a chair, she pulled out her notebook, the one containing her little sister's funeral plans.

She didn't write in it, nor did she even open it; Tina just felt this need have it with her.

* * *

“All right, everyone,” Mr Frond sat at the front of Louise's home room, looking at the members of her class. A few of the older kids were there, like Megan, Darryl, Alex Papasian, Zeke, and Jimmy Jr. Tammy, of course, couldn't care less, and Jocelyn dutifully went wherever Tammy went.

Frond had been working hard since Louise died; hers was the first student death he'd ever experienced, and he wanted to handle it properly. “I want to thank you all for continuing to come to school; I understand how hard it must be for you. The principal and I have talked it over, and we did discuss closing for a few days, but we've found that having a normal routine is the best thing to do.” He looked around at the children. Many of them; Rudy, Zeke, the Pesto twins, looked very upset. He kept one eye on Millie, who was slumped over her desk, sobbing silently. If she got any worse, then he'd send her to the nurse.

“For those of you who were very close to Louise, if you ever feel like you feel you need to take a break, please do so; you can step out, have a drink of water, walk around, and that is perfectly fine. And of course, if you are feeling very overwhelmed and need to take a break from classes, I understand, but please let me know first.

“One important thing to remember is that everyone, no matter their age, or how well they knew Louise, will grieve differently, and that's okay. Remember to be kind with yourself and be patient and kind to others, as people experience this terrible news in very different ways.

“What I thought we'd do today is discuss ways we can remember Louise. Does anyone have any ideas?” Once again, he looked around. Everyone was quiet.

“Um, how about a memory book?” Regular-sized Rudy raised his hand, speaking quietly. “We could each write down our favourite memory of Louise, and then put it into a book?”

“That's a good idea,” said Frond, and Harley nodded.

“Yeah, and we could put pictures and stuff in there,” said Zeke.

“We could give it to her parents,” Rudy finished.

“That's a really nice idea,” said Frond. “I'm sure they'll appreciate it. We can definitely do that. Does anyone else have any ideas?” he scanned the room, but the other kids seemed reluctant to talk.

Millie raised a shaking hand. “Yes, Millie?”

“We could have -” Millie paused to wipe her face, “we could have a memorial garden.”

Everyone turned to look, and she carried on, “A – a little bench, with flowers, and stuff like that. There could maybe some nice stones, and some little plants.”

“That's really nice,” Frond nodded, and so did many of the others. “We can start on the memory book later this week, and later, we'll need to think of some fundraising ideas for the garden, and we can all pitch in, and help plant the flowers.”

“We could do car washes,” said Harley.

“We'll worry about that later,” Frond assured her. “For now, we just need to focus on supporting one another.”

Rudy only nodded, wiping a tear from his face.

* * *

Tina and Gene were still in the library when the home bell rung. A few teachers had hovered over them here and there, asking if they were okay. To Tina's intense relief, they didn't stay long, and the siblings were mainly left alone, which was just what they wanted.

When they arrived home, she saw that Big Bob, Al, Gloria, and Gayle were there. Bob was crying again, and Tina walked over to him.

“Don't mind me,” he sniffled. “It's just... we've just seen something that's really...” he gestured to the laptop, and Tina moved closer to it. On the screen was the Just Giving website, and it read “Louise Belcher Funeral Fund.” She could see that there was over $150,000 on it already, and her jaw dropped.

“How – who – ?” Tina turned to her family. Bob opened his mouth, but was overcome by tears.

“When Louise was in the well,” said Big Bob, “someone set up this fund, and it was supposed to pay for her hospital care. Now that.. that's changed, all the money that people donated will help pay for the funeral.”

“Oh, that's a relief,” Tina sagged and hugged her grandfather. “There's so much we need to do; we need to order flowers, a coffin, the headstone, we need to inscribe the headstone. We need to get food and drink and the priest, and the music.” She knew she was babbling, but she couldn't help it; she felt like once everything had been arranged, she could relax a tiny bit. She had always been a somewhat organised and responsible person, and so she wanted – needed – to honour her sister's memory, which is why Louise had to have the perfect funeral.

“Hey, slow down,” said Big Bob. “You don't have to worry about that; I'll take care of everything.”

“Can I help?” asked Tina and Big Bob nodded; he could see that she felt she needed to do this, and he saw no harm in letting her help. Tina wanted to give her sister the send off she deserved, and he could understand that. “I need to speak to the priest,” she said, “and see if he can do the funeral on Saturday.”

“Okay. Before we start, I have something for you all. I wanted to wait until you two got home from school.”

“What?” Tina asked, and Big Bob picked a small bag up off the floor. Inside were eight, small identical boxes, and he handed them out to everyone. Tina took hers and opened it. Resting inside the black velvet lining was a gold, heart-shaped locket.

“Open it,” said Big Bob quietly, and they all did so. Tina gasped, and covered her mouth with her hand. Inside the locket was a small curl of Louise's hair. She reached out and delicately touched it.

“It's soft,” she said quietly, not knowing why that upset her so. She pulled the necklace out of the case, and placed it around her neck, knowing that now Louise would be with her forever.

“I went out and got the lockets at the weekend, and on my way here, the funeral director stopped me, and gave me the hair.”

“How long until the casts are ready?” asked Gayle, gently stroking her locket.

“Uh, he said it would be in a few days,” said Big Bob. Gayle nodded, and he turned back to Tina. “Show me what you've got so far,” said Big Bob and Tina pulled out her note book. Bob had left the room, an act which had not gone unnoticed.

“Well, I thought that we could... have the service inside the church, a-and a eulogy. I don't know who's going to do that yet. And with an open casket.” Sniffles arose from all around her. “I don't know who will be pallbearers, either. Or where she'll be buried.”

“Then why don't we start working on the stuff that can be done?” suggested Big Bob gently, noticing the ever increasing upset faces of his family.

“Okay. Well, I thought we could have roses everywhere, and have Louise's name spelt out in flowers. And have giant balloons, with everyone in black, and Louise's favourite songs being played.”

“Okay, Well, we can do all of that,” acknowledged Big Bob.

“And the reception will be held here, but I'm not too sure how it should go?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, should we have photos and videos of Louise? Should we tell nice stories about her?”

“I think that's a good idea. What do you think?” Big Bob directed this question at the rest of the family, all of whom nodded silently.

Tina sighed in relief, knowing that everything was going to be taken care of.

Now that talk of the funeral had halted, Bob came back into the room, now holding Louise's Mizuchi toy.

“I'm going back to the.. chapel of rest in a few minutes,” he announced, surveying the room with his swollen, red eyes, and everybody said that they would come as well. Big Bob eyed his son nervously.

“Bob,” he began. “What – what do you think the headstone should say?”

“... I don't know,” said Bob after a very long pause.

“What about, 'Louise Belcher – always remembered, never forgotten'?” suggested Gayle.

“Or, 'Louise Belcher, sleeping with the angels'?” said Al. Bob opened his mouth but was cut off by the burger phone ringing, and he answered it.

“Hello?”

“ _Hello, Mr Belcher?”_

“Yes. Who's this?” Bob didn't recognise the voice.

“ _Oh, this is Mrs Smith; you probably don't know me, but I'm the mother of Brad; he goes to Wagstaff. I just wanted to say how sorry I am about the loss of your daughter, and if there's anything I can do, just let me know.”_

Bob hung up and looked around.

“That was the mother of someone at Louise's school, telling me how sorry they were,” he explained. “Tina, did you tell anyone?”

“No, but everyone knows,” said the girl quietly.

“I wish they didn't,” said Bob. He wasn't angry, he just couldn't bear the thought of everybody knowing that his daughter was dead. It made it more real, and he didn't want that. Then, the phone rang again. “Hello?”

“ _Hello, Mr Belcher, it's Mrs Powell. I just wanted to say how sorry I am. It's such a terrible thing to have happened...”_ Again, Bob hung up the phone.

“Why do all these people keep calli-” he was cut off by the phone ringing again. “Hello?”

“ _Hello, Mr Belcher, it's Mr Butler here. What a terrible ordeal for you; I'm so sorry. How are the family?”_ Once again, Bob. hung up. The phone rang again and Bob answered, hung up, and then left it open before sitting down, his eyes welling up. He'd cried so much over the past five days, it was a wonder how he wasn't dehydrated.

“Where's Mom?” asked Tina.

“Kitchen,” Bob croaked.

“Is she coming, too?”

“Yes.”

“Dad?” Tina began quietly. “Do – do you think you could perform the eulogy? At the funeral?”

Bob looked as though he had been punched in the stomach.

“... I'll let you know,” was all he found he could say. Bob truthfully didn't think he could handle giving the eulogy. It would just be too hard. How was he supposed to sum up the life of his youngest child in five minutes? Even a year's worth of talking would be insufficient, he thought. He had already known he would end up being a pallbearer, and with every passing day Bob wondered how he was going to get through that; carrying the coffin in which his dead daughter resided. Almost selfishly, Bob didn't want to give the eulogy because he would be too upset. 'Upset' didn't even begin to cover what he was feeling.

Deep down, Bob knew that he should do this, to give his baby the send-off she deserved, but he couldn't. He just couldn't. Linda couldn't do it either, that he knew for certain. He couldn't imagine anyone in the Belcher family having the strength to do it, so with a heavy heart, Bob decided that he would have to ask the priest to do it.

Bob felt really guilty at his decision; he knew Tina would be upset and he would try to explain it to her; he couldn't do it, he physically couldn't do it.

Linda entered the room, wine bottle glued to her hand. She hugged Tina and Gene, her arms a bit floppy and heavy.

“How was school?” she asked, slurring slightly.

“Fine,” was all Tina said, her voice low.

“Gene? You all right, there?” said Big Bob, for Gene was hunched over the table, and they all turned to look. Again, Bob was hit with a pang of guilt; he just wasn't used to Gene being quiet. Without his son making a load of noise, Bob didn't even notice him, and he felt horrible for that.

Without saying a word, Gene straightened up, revealing that he had been writing something, and he pushed the paper towards his family. Already, Tina felt like her insides were twisting; Gene was doing stuff independently, maybe now he would be okay. She, along with the others, leaned forward to read the paper. On it was a simple rhyme:

_'Your presence we miss_

_Your memories we treasure_

_Loving you always_

_Forgetting you never.'_

“Is that for the headstone?” asked Big Bob. Gene didn't nod, and only looked back down at the paper. “It's beautiful,” the elderly man sniffled.

“It's really nice,” confirmed Gayle.

“Yeah, that's what we'll put,” Bob choked, standing up. “Come on, let's go.”

The rest of his family followed suite, and they headed to the funeral home.

* * *

Against, her better judgement, Cynthia put on her coat, picked up her bag, and left the house to do some shopping. She had no choice; Tom was at work, she couldn't let Logan go, and the store wasn't able to do a delivery. It would just be a quick stop, and she would drive there and back, thereby decreasing the chances of any unwanted incidents.

Once at the supermarket, she did her best to keep a low profile as she pushed her trolley through the aisles. Nobody seemed to give her a passing glance; she was just another shopper, going about her business.

“Bitch.”

Cynthia looked up to see a young woman staring at her, hatred all over her face.

“What?” She gripped the handle of the trolley.

“I said you're a bitch. What kind of mother are you?”

Cynthia could only stare as who she assumed to be the woman's friends surrounded her, trying to lead her away. Cynthia assumed they were all part of the same friendship group, and most likely single mothers, due to their ill-fitting, cheap clothing, and the messy hair, and make-up free faces. “You are absolutely disgusting!” she spat with such venom that poison practically emitted from her mouth.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. You're a terrible person, and you're a terrible parent! What kind of mother are you?!”

“What are you talking about?” Cynthia had a hint of anger in her voice; she was tired, but she still had some fight left in her. She knew exactly what this was about.

“You and that little brat of yours! What the hell is wrong with you?! That little girl is dead because of you!”

“I -” Cynthia shook her head, the fight draining out of her, as the little group left; all of them seemed to be glaring at her. “It wasn't my fault,” she finished. Her hands shaking, she tried to continue shopping.

“You and your son are disgusting human beings, and I hope you both get what's coming to you!” came the woman's voice from the end of the aisle. Cynthia gripped the trolley even harder, willing her legs to stop shaking. She really needed a drink.

Thankfully, the rest of her trip went without incident, and Cynthia paid for her items, and carried her bags out to the car.

“Excuse me?”

Cynthia turned around, and saw a woman, a different one, standing behind her.

“Yes?”

The woman said nothing said nothing, and spat in Cynthia's face, before walking off. Cynthia could only stand there, too shocked to do anything, saliva dripping down her face. She reached up a trembling hand and wiped it off, dashing to the safety of her car. She got in, locking all of the doors, as a few tears rolled down her cheeks. Was nowhere safe? Was she now supposed to make shopping trips in the dead of night, like some kind of fugitive?

She wiped her face a final time, checking her reflection in the rear-view mirror, before starting the car, and heading to the police station.

“Good afternoon, ma'am, how can we help you?” asked the receptionist.

“I've been assaulted; I wanna report it,” said Cynthia, straightening up.

Soon enough, she found herself in a little room, with two police officers, trying to describe the women. “They looked kind of cheap,” she said. “I know that sounds bad, but I can't think of any other way to describe them. They were all pretty much wearing the same things; oversized sweaters; one of them was wearing a baggy T-shirt, and they were wearing either loose-fitting jeans, leggings, or sweatpants. The leader, the one who said those horrible things, had light brown hair, and the others were mainly brown haired, with two blondes,” she explained.

“Okay, and the woman who spat on you? What did she look like?”

“Um, she was wearing a white shirt, patterned with roses, and black skinny jeans. She was carrying a black leather handbag. She had brown hair in a ponytail.”

“Right,” said one of the officers, writing it all down. “Do you have any idea why they targeted you?”

Cynthia stiffened and pursed her lips.

“I'm surprised you don't know,” she said, her tone cold. “My son is Logan Bush. People are angry at us because Louise Belcher is dead, and they're taking it out on me! My son can't leave the house, and I probably won't be able to, now, either! So, I'd like to know what you're going to do.”

“We'll go to the store in question, and see if we can take a look at the CCTV, and ask the staff, see if they saw anything.”

“Well, what about me? What about my family? Are we expected to just live with this?”

“Ma'am, we're going to look into it, and if we find the perpetrators -”

“What if you don't? What if this just keeps going on and on?”

“Ma'am -”

“Yesterday, my home was vandalised again! Today, I was assaulted! What do I need to get protection from you?”

“We are going to look into it,” said the officer evenly.

“But I want to know what you're going to do! I shouldn't have to be afraid to leave my home! Isn't there someone here who can accompany me, like a bodyguard?”

“Afraid not, ma'am,” said officer Daniels.

“Well, can't one of you do it?”

“Well, we don't do things like that, because we don't have the resources for it.”

“You two aren't doing anything,” she pointed out.

“Ma'am, we are always working,” officer Daniels said calmly, “and after this, we have cases to work on.”

“Oh, come on! This is a tiny, little town! What case could you possibly be working on?!”

“We're not able to reveal that,” he said. “But, if you're truly concerned for your safety, and the safety of your family, you could either get a Protection from Harassment Act. Harassment is a criminal offence, and so, if you're targeted again, you can press charges against the person or persons.”

“... That's it? That's all you have to offer me?”

“Well, ma'am, if you really want someone to accompany you when you go out, then your best bet would be to hire someone who can perform that service.”

Cynthia just sat there, staring at them.

“Fine, I'll figure something out,” she said, standing and gathering her things. “ _Thank you_ for your time(!)” she snarled before marching out.

* * *

When the Belchers arrived home, Tina went straight to her room, naturally followed by Gene.

Once in her room, she opened up the laptop, her notebook beside her. Both Tina and Gene remained silent as she ordered several, large helium balloons, some heart-shaped, and some Kuchi Kopi shaped off of e-Buy, after checking the online stock of the local party store, of which there were none. As Bob and Linda weren't in the best state of mind, Big Bob had taken over the fundraiser. It wasn't that he didn't trust them; it was simply because if he had to leave it to them, then nothing would get done. Big Bob didn't blame them; he couldn't, but he couldn't let Louise not have a funeral, and he couldn't let Tina do everything by herself.

So, he'd given his passwords to Tina, and told her to order whatever she wanted for the funeral. Tina ordered a few more sets of the balloons, before crossing them off of her list.

Now that the balloons had been ordered, Tina got to work making a playlist for the funeral. It was still so difficult; no song seemed to be good enough. She couldn't find any that were able to sum up their feelings, to sum up Louise.

For the reception, she had Louise's favourite songs, on a different playlist. Mainly the Boyz 4 Now ballads, and some slow songs by that Japanese singer Louise liked, but never told anyone about (Louise wasn't as good with her browsing history as she liked to think). Tina didn't understand what any of the Japanese songs were about, but she was sure that Louise appreciated the effort and the sentiment.

Tina realised that nobody would really be paying attention to the reception music, and so she added more songs, “You Raise Me Up,” “To Where You Are,” “Angel,” “Tears in Heaven,” and other similar works.

For the actual funeral, she was still struggling; she had to pick the perfect songs, but it was so hard. She now knew, due to her research, that only two songs were needed; one as everyone entered, and another as they left.

Eventually, she decided on Boyz 4 Now's “Whisper in your Eyes,” for the first, and their song “Every Single Time You Cried,” for when they left. Tina felt that they were appropriate enough.

So, that hurdle had been passed, but now she had to decide on what song was going to play while Louise was.. being buried, and so she began typing once again. She looked and looked and looked, before she found the perfect song. Simply titled “Gone Too Soon,” Tina skimmed over the lyrics, before a lump formed in her throat, and she had to look away. That was the one.

Tina crossed 'music' off her list, as she burned a copy of her playlists to some blank discs. The first disc would be used for the church and burial services and the other one would be used for the reception.

All that was left to be done was to finalise who would deliver the eulogy, get someone to make the food, and get the photos and videos for the reception.

There were numerous photos and videos of Louise that she could use around the house; all of the family's home videos had been converted to DVD's when they could no longer record on their old video camera; Linda had had them converted so she still had the memories. Tina was going to make a tribute video, but she needed to wait a day or two, until she was able to actually look at the videos without wanting to destroy something.

Feeling drained, Tina closed her laptop, crawled onto her bed, where Gene was curled up, and fell into a deep sleep.

* * *

She awoke the next morning and ventured downstairs to find that Al, Gloria, and Gayle had gone home. Bob, Linda and Big Bob were in the living-room, and there was a box resting on the sofa. Moving forward, Tina could see that it was full of Louise's locker contents, along with her school books, and Bob was rifling through it. Reaching into the box, Tina picked up Louise's English book and flipped through it. The wobbly cursive made her heart ache. Apart from the half-hearted attempts at school work, the pages were mainly filled with random doodles of Kuchi Kopi, along with other Japanese characters she didn't recognise. There were doodles of Mr Frond being eaten by various animals, and a little drawing of Louise as the Ruler of the World with people bowing down to her.

“Mr Frond dropped that by last night,” said Linda, who was sitting in the chair, holding Louise's secret supply of candy that she'd kept hidden in her locker. Tina remembered that Louise would sometimes sell it in order to make some money.

“Oh,” was all Tina said. She turned her attention back to the workbook, and continued looking through it.

“Huh.” Linda picked up Louise's spare lock-picking kit; the one she kept at school for 'emergencies', AKA, breaking into the principal's office, and other shenanigans. “Didn't know she kept some of these at school.”

“Me neither,” Tina said, placing the book back in the box. “Dad?” she said, after a few moments of silence. “Did you think about it?” She was referring to the eulogy, but he didn't need to ask that, and he turned to face her.

“I have. I thought long and hard about this, and I've decided that I can't do it. The priest will do it; I called and asked.”

Tina looked crestfallen; that wasn't the answer she had been expecting at all.

“But, Dad, it's for Louise,” her eyes filled with tears.

“I know, honey, but I just can't do it; it's too hard.” Bob was close to tears, as well.

“Dad, I...” was all Tina managed.

“Tina, I'm sorry, I c _an't_ do it, I physically can't!” He wrapped her in his arms and cried. Tina didn't cry; she hadn't been able to since Louise died, and she didn't know why. She was definitely upset enough, but the tears just wouldn't come out, and she couldn't understand it.

Gene had cried, several times; Tina could hear him, curled up together in bed, late at night, when he thought no one was awake. He never seemed to notice the comforting hand she placed on his arm, but last night, he'd accepted her hug.

“It's okay,” she said monotonously. “It's okay if you can't.”

Bob let go of her, wiping his face, as Gene entered the room, still silent.

“All right, Tina,” Bob sniffed, and wiped his nose on the back of his hand. “You two better get off to school.”

“Okay,” said Tina, not wanting to mention that they hadn't eaten breakfast yet. “We'll just brush our teeth.”

“I put lunches on the kitchen – I mean, in the counter,” Linda, whose face was buried in the arm of the chair, waved vaguely in the right direction.

“Right,” said Tina, “well.. bye, then.”

“Bye,” said Bob.

“Gene? I got a few things to do after school, are you coming?” Gene only stared ahead. “You can go on home if you want, but I've got these things to do. If you're coming, just nod.” To her great relief, he nodded. Hopefully, he would start speaking again soon. They were both carrying brown paper bags, and Tina opened hers up. Inside was a few slices of cheese, half a cookie, a handful of pretzels, and a lettuce leaf. Taking Gene's bag, she saw that his lunch was the same, and she bit her lip worriedly. “Well, I guess we can eat the school lunch,” she said, as they continued walking, fingering the locket around her neck. The rest of her family were wearing theirs, as well. Tina would never, ever take it off; it gave her a bit of comfort knowing that Louise would always be with her.

Once at school, they stuck together as they wandered the halls before class. Tina was just wondering if Mr Frond would allow her and Gene to share classes; not because she didn't want to be apart from him; she wanted to stay with him. She just didn't like the idea of Gene being on his own, and he seemed to respond better to her, and others, when they were together.

As they walked through the corridor, she continued to contemplate this, and she believed that it was a good idea; it would help them both a lot. Tina had made up her mind to go and see Mr Frond about it during break, when a girl stopped her, snapping her from her musings.

“Hey, Tina,” she smiled chirpily.

“Um, hi?” Tina tilted her head, not recognising the girl, who looked to be about her age. She had the same irritating vocal inflection as Tammy and Jocelyn.

“So, I just wanted to, like, say sorry, about, like, Louise, and that,” she said, her hands fingering her phone.

“Thanks,” Tina muttered.

“How did she die?” the girl asked, and Tina stared at her.

“What?”

“How did she die, how did Louise die?” the girl repeated. “No one's been able to find out, and I'm just curious, you know?”

“I – I...” Tina felt her heart quicken, and she glanced over at Gene helplessly. Her palms grew sweaty, and she wanted desperately to scream or cry, or both.

“Hey, enough of that! Buzz off; go on, get!”

Tina drooped with relief as Zeke came up to them, looking at the girl with disgust. The girl threw him a confused look, before walking off. “Hey, I'm sorry 'bout that, T-Bird,” he said sincerely, turning to face them.

“It's okay; thanks.”

“Nah; I shoulda been there. Don't worry; I'll make sure no one else bothers ya.”

“Thanks,” Tina whispered.

* * *

“Logan!” Cynthia called, making herself comfortable on the sofa. “I'm in the living-room!” she added, after hearing his footsteps.

“What is it?” he asked, appearing in the doorway.

“Sit down,” she gestured to the sofa, and he did so, looking at her curiously. “There's something I need to tell you.” She had been trying to gather up the courage since the previous day; she didn't want to scare him. “There's – people have been sending us threatening letters,” she said, and his jaw dropped.

“What?”

“Letters, threatening us, threatening you; warning you not to go outside. You know the house has been vandalised twice now?” she asked, and he nodded, his eyes wide. “They're angry because Louise is dead. I've spoken to the police, and they've told me it's not the Belchers; they have alibis, and witnesses. So, I don't know who's doing this. Yesterday, at the store, a group of women insulted me, and another one spat in my face.”

“But what are the police doing? What are they gonna do?”

“They're gonna try and find the women. They've got the letters, and they're just going to try and find them. And when they do...” Cynthia trailed off. “I don't really know,” she admitted, “the police told me that we could get some kind of harassment order, but it won't do any good, will it?”

“It won't stop vandals,” he realised, and Cynthia nodded.

“Right; so that's why I bought some security cameras yesterday. I've already called someone out to install them. They hook up to your phone or laptop, so we can see who's doing it.”

“Okay,” said Logan. “What about.. everything else?”

“What do you mean? I've told you everything.”

“You said that everyone is mad because Louise is dead. Well, what if they get madder? What if they break in?”

“They won't do that,” said Cynthia confidently.

“How do you know?” he pouted, looking younger than his fifteen years. “They think it's my fault! What if people break in and attack me?!”

“That's why I got the cameras; so if anyone tries, we'll call the police. Look,” she sighed, “people are just upset right now, and pretty soon, this'll all blow over.”

“How long until it does?”

“Well, I heard that her funeral is this Saturday, so you can go back to school on Monday.”

“Are – are we going to that?” Logan looked down at his lap, fiddling with his hands.

“Why should we?” Cynthia hesitated. “Do you want to go?”

“No; I don't wanna see that. Funerals are weird; they freak me out,” he admitted.

“All right, then. I think it will be best for everyone if you stayed here until Monday.”

“So, I have to stay inside for six more days? I'm bored; I hate being inside!” he whined.

“You could always clean that pigsty you call a room,” she suggested, folding her arms.

“It's fine!” Logan pulled a face. “It's just – I remember what it was like in school, when she was in the well. The way they looked at me, and talked to me. Now she's dead, and they're gonna be even worse, I know it!”

“You'll be fine.”

“I don't wanna go back!”

“You have to; you can't not go to school. What do you expect to do?”

“Homeschool?” he suggested, but Cynthia shook her head.

“I don't have the time to find you a private tutor,” she said. “I need to make sure this family stays safe.”

“Well, I can't stay safe if I have to go outside!” Logan retorted. “I can't go back; everyone hates me!” He folded his arms, as well, looking the spitting image of his mother.

“Everyone hates me, too!” Cynthia snapped. “They don't just think it's your fault; they think it's mine, as well!”

“Why should they hate you? You didn't push her!”

“They hate me because I'm your mother; therefore, I'm just as bad,” said Cynthia.

“But it's not my fault. Right? If they'd gotten to her in time, she'd be alive. They can't blame me for that.”

“I understand what you mean, and no, it's not your fault,” she assured him. “Listen, you're going back to school on Monday, even if I have to drag you there myself!”

“Why should I have to go, when I'm only gonna get beaten up?” Logan gestured wildly, before slamming his hand down onto his knee.

“You _won't._ I'll speak to your principal,” she said, but Logan shook his head. She really didn't get it.

“You said you wouldn't expect me to go back; why have you changed your mind?”

“You're fifteen; you have important exams to study for. The best thing to do is just carry on with our lives.”

“But we can't! We're getting attacked! What do we do about that?”

“We have cameras, and I'm going to get that order. I need someone to be with me whenever I leave the house, so I'll look into that.”

“A bodyguard?” Logan raised an eyebrow.

“If you wanna call it that. Face it; there a some people out there who want to hurt us, and we should take steps to prevent that.”

* * *

After school, Zeke saw Tina and Gene to the end of the street, making sure no one bothered them. Mr Frond had been sympathetic when Tina had spoken to him earlier, and had promised to think about the siblings sharing classes.

“Y'all... if y'all need anything, just call me,” he said, pulling Tina into a hug, and then Gene.

“We will,” said Tina mechanically.

“I mean it; night or day; even if ya just wanna talk; gimme a call.”

“Thanks,” Tina said, before she and Gene turned around and began walking. Zeke watched them go, his heart heavy.

It was hard, the hardest thing Tina had ever done, planning her sister's funeral, but keeping busy numbed the pain slightly. Only slightly.

As they approached St, Peter's Cathedral, they made a right turn and entered the sacred building. It truly was a beautiful place, a place that felt very peaceful. Tina and Gene walked up the central aisle, and Tina couldn't help but look around in wonder. High, arched ceilings, stone columns, stained glass windows, and wooden pews and soft lighting that made the place look warm and inviting. If she wasn't here for such a terrible reason, she would be in awe at the sheer beauty of the building.

She couldn't see the reverend, but she could hear music playing in one of the back rooms, so she followed the sound, Gene behind her.

She found the somewhat elderly man writing in a notepad, with some easy-listening music playing on the radio. Tina quietly knocked on the door, causing him to look up. He wasn't wearing the collar, nor a long, flowing robe, and it felt weird to Tina, who couldn't picture a priest wearing anything but.

“Yes? What can I do for you?” he asked. Reverend Brooks recognised her face from the news reports, and he was sure he could guess what she was there for.

Tina hesitated and just decided to say it outright.

“C-can you perform a church service and funeral for Saturday the 9th?”

Brooks stared at her, trying not to let the sadness he felt show on his face.

“Yes, of course we can,” he said.

“It's for my sister's funeral. Will you do it?” Her voice was dull and monotonous.

“Of course I will,” he said sincerely. “Do you know how you want it to go?”

Tina nodded and pulled out her notebook.

“It's all in here,” she said with a watery smile. “Thank you, Reverend. I have to go now.”

Brooks stared after the girl as she left, allowing a look of sorrow to cross his face.

As they arrived home, Tina sighed as she realised that, once again, planning a funeral was going to be harder than she thought. _'As if it wasn't already hard enough,'_ she thought miserably. She wanted to give Louise a funeral to be proud of, but sometimes, she didn't feel like it was going to happen.

Bob, Linda, and Big Bob were still there, sat together in the living-room.

“Kids, you're late,” said Bob.

“We went to the church,” Tina mumbled. “The priest said he'll do the.. service.”

“Okay,” they nodded.

“I guess we should get going, then,” said Bob, standing up.

“We need to...” Tina stopped, and everyone turned to look at her. “We should pick out a – a coffin, and a headstone, and – and somewhere where she'll be.. buried,” she whispered the final word.

“Do we – can't that wait?” Bob looked as though he was in physical pain.

“It's on Saturday; we've got four days,” said Big Bob gently. “It's best to do it now, and get it out of the way.”

Bob only nodded, and allowed himself to be led out of the apartment.

Mort greeted them at the door, as per usual.

“We need to get some stuff,” said Tina quietly. Mort stared down at her, before realising what she meant.

“Of course,” he said, “come with me.”

“We need a headstone,” she added needlessly, and Mort nodded, and led them through the house.

Mort's place was a lot bigger than it looked, Tina thought, as they were taken down a long corridor, down another corridor, and walked through a comfortable looking waiting room. She had her notebook on hand, just in case.

Mort led them into a little, cosy room with a computer, where he sat, while the others sat around him. “Do you know what kind of headstone you want?” he asked, and they shook their heads.

“There are different kinds?” asked Gayle, and Mort nodded.

“The most popular is a lawn memorial,” he explained. “It's a simple headstone, with a little shelf on the bottom to hold flowers. Then there is a kerbed memorial; very similar, except the shelf extends to cover the entire grave. There are also shaped ones for children,” he finished, pulling some pictures up to show them.

The headstones for children came in many sizes, and had characters featured on them, like teddy bears, and elephants. There were also ones engraved with hearts, stars, and castles.

“None of them seem right!” said Linda, covering her face. The rest of the family had to agree with her; none of them seemed special enough for their little Louise.

“Can we – can we have that's shaped normal, but with bunny ears on top?” asked Bob. “Like, I don't mean, like, engraved, but like her hat? Carved, on top of it? So they stick up?”

Linda gasped, as did Tina; it was perfect.

“Of course; that's no problem,” said Mort.

“And can it be pink?”

“Of course,” Mort repeated. “Do you know what you want it to say?”

“Yeah,” Bob sniffled, and pulled Gene's poem out of his pocket, handing it to Mort.

“That's really nice,” he said quietly. “Is that all?”

“'Beloved sister and daughter',” said Linda, and Mort nodded.

“And do you want her full name, or just her first and last name?”

“Full name,” Bob rasped. It just felt right.

“Okay,” Mort was typing away, before turning the screen to face them. “I've got name, beloved sister and daughter, date of birth and.. and then after that, the poem. How is that for you?”

“I like it,” said Tina, and the Belchers nodded.

“Yeah, it's nice,” said Linda.

“Can I just add one thing?” asked Big Bob. “At the bottom, can we put 'a little girl who brought the world together'?”

They all stared at him.

“That's so sweet,” whispered Linda.

“Well, she did,” said Big Bob. “If you could have seen it; there was so much love and support out there, stuff that you never even saw. I had people coming into my restaurant, shaking with worry. People were just nicer to each other, because they were so concerned over Louise. It was like everyone forgot their own problems. I've never seen a community pull together like that,” he finished, wiping away a tear.

“That's.. that's just so touching,” said Al. “We need to have that.”

After selecting the exact shade of pink, they were shown a mock up of what the headstone would look like, the inscription was made final and Big Bob paid for it.

Next, they had the draining task of picking out a coffin. The group was silent as they walked amongst the models, Mort describing describing them all. Again, none of them seemed good enough, and the small size of the caskets made Tina want to vomit.

Eventually, a beautiful, tiny, pink oak coffin edged with gold and lined with white satin was chosen for Louise.

Mort really did have everything, Tina thought, as they went to yet another room to choose flowers.

“I think we should have roses,” she said. “They mean love.”

“Okay,” said Mort. “What colours would you like?”

“Pink,” said Linda. “And red, and white. Do you have green?”

“I don't have any here, but I can order them for you,” Mort said, and Linda nodded.

“And, and her name spelt out in pink and white flowers,” said Bob.

“Do you have a flower preference? We usually use chrysanthemums,” said Mort.

“Yeah; those.” Bob didn't know what chrysanthemums were, but whatever it took for this to be over. 

Several big bouquets and wreaths of roses in red, pink, green, and white were then ordered, and four lots of the funeral flower lettering were ordered.

“Okay, everything's all been ordered, and it'll all be ready and set up before you get to the church,” Mort said. “I hate to ask, but they've been calling non-stop – do you want the media there?”

“What?” Bob looked confused.

“The press; they've been asking if they can film it, and I said I would ask you, and let them know.”

“I don't care,” Bob said honestly.

“Not inside the church,” said Linda. It felt wrong to have reporters filming and photographing the worst moment of their lives.

“Not a problem; I will let them know. Oh, uh,” he paused slightly. “They want to know the cause of death. Do you want me to tell them?”

“I don't care,” Bob repeated, and Linda gave a half-shrug, half nod movement.

“They'll probably find out eventually,” said Gayle, “it might be easier to tell them; at least that way, the kids won't get bothered at school.”

Big Bob nodded his consent.

“Okay,” said Mort. “If it's okay with you, I have something to ask.”

“What?” asked Big Bob.

“People from all over America have been sending flowers; do you want them to be part of the procession?”

“That's so sweet,” Linda wiped her eyes. “Yeah, that'll be fine.”

“Okay, if you wanted, I could get two extra hearses; there's a lot of flowers.”

“Okay,” Linda nodded, wiping her eyes again.

“Would you like a hearse to transport Louise?” Mort asked gently.

“A hearse?” Linda repeated, like she wasn't sure what he meant.

“If you want a hearse, that'll be fine.”

“I don't want a hearse,” she muttered, “I want my baby back. But, no, carriage. A carriage.”

“A horse drawn carriage?” Mort confirmed, and Linda nodded.

“White,” she said, “with white horses.” If she really had to go through with this, with burying her child, then she was going to make sure Louise had the best of the best.

“Okay, that can be arranged.”

Once everything had been reserved and paid for, the family travelled over to the cemetery to pick out a burial plot. Even though it wasn't technically part of his job, Mort accompanied them. He knew quite a bit about cemeteries, and thought that he could make it at least a little bit easier for the family.

Like most people, Tina had never liked cemeteries; she always felt as though she shouldn't be there, like she was trespassing.

Mort led the distraught, silent family through Sacred Heart Cemetery, showing them several empty plots. “So, this is another one,” he said, standing back to allow them to observe another plot. It all looked the same to Tina, just the same grass in different places. “It gets good sunlight, so the flowers will grow, and there's no trees nearby, so no chance of any bird fouling.”

“Right,” Bob whispered. God, he needed a drink.

“This one,” said Linda, a little while later. They were in the middle of the cemetery, and they were looking at a plot that was next to several other empty plots. Big Bob purchased the plot, and for a moment, they remained there, staring at that patch of grass, knowing what it represented. Tina clenched her hands together. Could they really do this?

“That was nice of people to send flowers,” she said in the car, on the way home. She needed to do something to break up the awful silence. She didn't know how much longer she could stand it.

“It was,” Big Bob agreed. “I can't believe that flowers have come from all around the country.”

“Did that many people know about it?” _'Please keep talking, about anything,'_ Tina thought.

“Yeah; it was all over the Internet; anyone could watch and find out about it.”

“Wonders of the Internet, huh?”

When they arrived home, Tina turned on the television, unable to stand it any longer. She made sure to put the kids' channel on, therefore eliminating any chance of seeing anything potentially upsetting on the news.

The dialogue of the children's show did a great job of dulling the silence, the silence that seemed to be so loud it was deafening. That was what they needed; they needed some noise.

The family gathered in the living-room, all of them looking pale and ill. Gayle had her head down, and she was gripping her hair. Al and Gloria were holding one another tightly, and Big Bob was sat in the chair, looking drained.

“I need a drink,” Linda was already heading into the kitchen as she spoke, and came back with another bottle of wine. She would have to get more soon, as she was running low.

“Linda,” said Big Bob gently, “you've already had one bottle today...”

“And now I'm having another,” Linda popped the cork, and began drinking straight from the bottle. Big Bob looked at her, but said nothing. She was grieving; he had to not overstep. She would be fine, as would his son and grandchildren. He hoped.

Bob again stared at the bottle. He couldn't understand why he had not touched a drop of alcohol yet; he definitely needed it. But something was stopping him, and he couldn't figure out what.

Tina, along with Gene, had slipped away, and retreated to her bedroom. She would have liked to stay with her family, but she had work to do.

A pile of DVDs were on her desk and she inserted one into the disc drive of the laptop. She was making a video tribute for the reception.

One of the videos was of her, Gene and Louise having a water fight in the alley that summer. Tina smiled at the memory as she watched the video; her and her siblings, all in their swimsuits, were chasing each other around the alley; all of them with water guns. Louise had just succeeded in aiming a stream of water at the back of Gene's head and he began chasing her. Louise, realising that Gene was no longer behind her, stopped. Gene appeared as if from nowhere, spraying Louise in the face, causing her to scream.

Tina's mouth twitched at the sight and put the clip in the video. She had already decided that it was going to be a montage of Louise's life, from when she was born to when she died. The first clip in the video was Louise's first birthday; she was sat in front of a large cake with a single candle as Bob and Linda, who were sat next to her, sang “Happy Birthday.” Tina's younger self and Gene were just in frame, and Gene was excitedly bashing a saucepan with a wooden spoon. Baby Louise wasn't wearing a hat, which was so weird to see. Tina stared at the video, watching her sister's short black curls bouncing away.

Louise was squirming excitedly and kept trying to blow the candle out, but she couldn't manage it. Finally, Linda blew it out for her and Louise instantly dove head first into the sticky chocolate cake, babbling happily.

The next clip was her second Christmas; baby Louise, just over a year old was sat in the middle of the living-room, surrounded by presents, not knowing what to do. In the next scene, she had just unwrapped a stuffed dog that was bigger than she was; she pulled it out of the box, fell backwards and the toy fell on top of her.

Tina didn't put in Louise's first Christmas, as she was barely one month old, and didn't do anything except stare at the Christmas lights; it was cute, but Tina felt the other video had a bit more of Louise's personality.

In the next clip, Louise was six, Gene was eight, and Tina was ten, and they were outside in the alley one cold Autumn night, in their warm coats and hats, toasting marshmallows and hot dogs over a small bonfire. Tina didn't remember how they had coaxed Bob into it, but she remembered how fun that night was.

There was a small chair with a plate of hot dog buns and some ketchup. Bob was standing behind the fire, the flames giving him an eerie glow, and Linda was supervising the kids, keeping Louise a safe distance from the fire, and helping them all to toast their snacks properly. Louise was toasting a marshmallow and stuck it right into the flames, setting it alight. She pulled out the flaming snack and blew it out like a candle, examining the now blackened treat.

_“Louise! Are you okay?”_ Linda ran over to her daughter and checked her over.

_“Yeah, I'm fine,”_ and Tina started at the sound of Louise's voice; she would never hear her speak again. She chanced a glance over at Gene, who was watching the video, his face blank, but eyes full of sadness.

In the video, Bob peeled off the blackened outside of the marshmallow and Louise ate the rest of it, remarking, with her mouth full, how “sticky and melty” it was.

Wait, now Tina remembered why they'd had that impromptu bonfire; the power had unexpectedly gone out. Not just for them, but for everyone on Ocean Avenue. Rather than sit and brood as Bob was content to do, Linda had suggested the idea, and Bob had been outnumbered. It had definitely been a memorable night, and even Bob had ended up enjoying himself.

Tina found many more videos on the DVDs and soon had made half of the tribute video. As it was getting late, she decided to finish the video the next day. She was glad the week was almost over; at least there was no school on the weekend; she was extremely glad about that.

But on the other hand, she never wanted this weekend to come, because that meant getting closer to saying goodbye to Louise forever, and she wasn't ready for that. She would never be ready.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, guys, I'm back and feeling much better. The doctor said my symptoms were mild (though I was still bedridden for around 3 weeks), and luckily, I still have my sense of taste and smell, and I'm now able to look at screens without being in pain. I'm thankful to be back in somewhat good health.  
> Here is chapter 5; I hope you enjoy reading.

Learning to Live Without You

Chapter 5

Tina awoke the next morning, feeling sicker than ever. It was Wednesday, one whole week since... She willed her hands to stop shaking as she got dressed. Would it ever get easier? People said that time healed everything, but when would that happen?

When she went into the kitchen, her parents were sat at the table, slumped in their chairs, with dirty cups and plates in front of them, along with a newspaper. Tina kept quiet as she sat, not wanting to upset them, and glanced at the paper.

Bob raised his head when Tina sat down, and looked over in her general direction. Whenever his eyes met hers, they flashed guiltily, and Tina felt bad for reacting the way that she did; she had just assumed that her father would give the eulogy, without any thought of how it was going to affect him.

She absent-mindedly picked up the newspaper and turned it over, desperate for something to do. She gasped when she saw Louise's photo on the front page.

“They called me last night,” revealed Bob, realising what Tina had seen. “The reporters. Wanted an interview, but I said no.”

Tina looked back at the paper and started reading the article.

“ _It has been revealed that Louise Belcher died as a result of dehydration and hypothermia, according to doctors._

_Louise, who passed away on February 27_ _th_ _, had spent the previous five days trapped in an abandoned water well. Rescuers had spent more than 110 hours digging to reach her. Since that day, residents have placed tributes at the spot where she died._

“ _Louise was severely dehydrated, and had moderate hypothermia,” said local doctor Steven Cabell in a brief conference, who had been constantly monitoring her while she had been stuck underground. The little girl had been given water and warm air, but had become too weak to maintain her body temperature, and had lost too many vital fluids, revealed the doctor._

_Louise's autopsy confirmed that she had several external and internal injuries, including septicaemia, kidney failure, along with a broken ankle and tail bone. Her limbs and back were also severely bruised, and were potentially gangrenous. It was also revealed that Louise had died between the hours of 7 and 8am on the morning of the 27 th._

_Dr Cabell and the media ended the conference with a moment of silence to remember Louise._

_Nine-year-old Louise was a student at Wagstaff Elementary School, where her older brother and sister also attend. On February 22_ _nd_ _, Louise was passing through Wharf Park as she ran an errand for her father, when she bumped into Logan Bush. The fifteen-year-old had been bullying her for up to a year, and he wanted to perform a wrestling move on her, as 'revenge.' Logan pushed Louise, and she fell into the well, falling 80 feet until she landed at the bottom, and became partially buried in rubble._

_What followed was an unprecedented rescue effort, as diggers, firemen, and volunteers descended on the park, wanting to help save this child they had never met._ _The thick rock and lack of adequate equipment slowed the volunteers. The men drilled non-stop for five days before they reached the well, only to find Louise dead._ _The news of the little girl's passing was met with shock and despair. The little girl who had fought so hard for so long, just couldn't hold on any more._

_Louise's funeral is going to be held at St. Peter's Cathedral this coming Saturday at 11am. The dozens of people who worked tirelessly to free her are believed to be attending. Donations that were supposed to be for her hospital care are now being used to cover her funeral costs; the page can be found at Just Giving, “Louise Belcher Funeral Fund.”_

_The family was unable to be reached for comment.”_

Tina folded the paper and placed it on the table.

“How did they find out?” she asked, forgetting what her mother had said the previous day. Word of mouth didn't usually travel that quickly. It did, Tina realised, especially in the age of the Internet in which they were living. Word could have easily spread over social media; Tina rarely used her Facebook page, so she wouldn't have seen anything. And, of course, all the reporters that were at the well would be following it up.

“Linda said it was okay, remember?” said Bob, as he stood up to attempt to fix breakfast. He made it as far as the stove before he collapsed onto his knees, his shoulders trembling.

“Dad?” Tina went over to him, and placed a hand on his shaking back. She looked around, but Linda still had her head buried in the table. Her shoulders were shaking, as well. Tina didn't know what to do, except pull her father into a hug, as Gene entered the room, looking more pale than she had ever seen him. “Gene -” she began, but paused. “Go and brush your teeth; we have to leave soon.” He was not staying home alone today; Bob and Linda wouldn't be able to help him. Tina felt awful for thinking it, but it was true; they were too wrapped up in their own pain. She didn't blame them, but she didn't want to leave Gene on his own; it was better that he went with her.

When Gene had gone to the bathroom, Tina bent down beside her father. “Dad?” she whispered.

“I'm okay; go to school,” he choked, and Tina, having no other option, backed away.

“Okay,” she said quietly. “Bye, Mom. Bye, Dad; love you both.”

“You too,” Bob raised his trembling hands to his face.

Tina and Gene arrived at school together, holding hands. Neither of them had lunches; Gene had not eaten much the day before, and Tina was going to make sure he ate properly this time.

Her mind was on the funeral plans. She was almost finished with the tribute video, and after that, all that was left to do was to get photos for the reception. She and Pop-pop could go down to the mall after school, probably tomorrow, and get them printed out. Another idea struck Tina; there ought to be photos of Louise in the church. She resolved to remember that, and made a mental note to speak to Reverend Brooks after school.

Only when everything was done, could Tina then relax. She had already knew what photographs she wanted; most of them were of just Louise, but there were several of her, Louise, and Gene, and some of the entire family together.

As per usual, they were met by Zeke, and he guided them through the halls. Tina really, really hoped that none of the kids spoke to her that day; she didn't think she could handle it.

“Zeke, I have a question to ask,” said Tina, once they had reached her locker.

“Ask away, Tina.”

“So, you think – could you – could you make the.. food for the reception?” she asked, and Zeke's face softened.

“Of course I will,” he said quietly. “Won't be no problem; just tell me what ya want, and I'll whip it up for ya.”

“It's in my notebook, but I left it at home.”

“Okay, well, just text me the list when you're able to, okay?”

“Thanks, Zeke.”

“It's nothin'; anythin' I can do to help, just let me know.”

“It's nothing fancy; just easy stuff, but we don't really have the time.”

“I understand,” he nodded. “I'll make it all, and I'll bring it over on Saturday mornin'.”

“That's a big help, thanks.”

As they walked through the halls, Tina wondered if going to school was the best idea. It was harder than she ever imagined it would be; attending school exactly one week after her baby sister had passed.

On the other hand, she was reluctant to be around her parents; seeing them like that greatly upset her. She did worry about them being all alone, but what could she do? It wasn't like she was able to care for them. Tina hoped that Pop-pop would drop in or them, or Aunt Gayle, or _someone,_ because her parents couldn't be alone, not today. They couldn't help one another, and so they needed someone to be with them, just to be in the house. She was sure it would help.

Tina was so deep in thought, that she didn't even realise that she had bumped into Mr Frond.

“Tina! Are you okay?” asked the counsellor.

“I'm fine,” she said, adjusting her glasses.

“I was just about to come and get you; can you and Gene step into my office, please?”

“Okay,” Tina nodded, as she and Gene followed him, and Zeke hung back, waiting for them.

Once inside his office, Frond sat, and gestured for the kids to do the same.

“You've both appear to have been coping okay,” he began, “and again, you're brave for coming in today. I've discussed it with the other teachers, and we've agreed, Tina, that you can attend Gene's classes with him. Just for a week, and then we'll review it.”

“I can stay with him?” she asked.

“Yes; we felt it would be easier for you to go to Gene's classes, rather than putting him up two grades.”

“Okay.”

“Is that okay with you, Gene?” Both Frond and Tina looked over at Gene. Any progress he might have made over the past week had all but disappeared. He stared blankly ahead, eyes wide and expressionless. “Gene?”

Again, nothing.

“He'll be fine; it's better that we're together,” said Tina.

“You sure?” Frond was still looking at Gene. “I am a certified counsellor, and so you can always talk to me, both of you.” Tina nodded, but said nothing. “I'll do my best to support you both.”

“Okay,” mumbled Tina.

“The students have come up with a couple of ideas to honour Louise's memory. Are you okay to hear them?” he asked gently, and Tina nodded, feeling numb. “Rudy has suggested a memory book, in which the students can write down their stories and moments about Louise.”

“That's nice.” Her voice was still numb.

“And another idea is a memorial garden, with a bench, and flowers.”

“I really like that,” although her voice was still monotonous, she truly thought it was a sweet idea. She imagined herself sitting in Louise's Garden. The very thought was heartbreaking, but the idea of Louise's very own garden was a lovely thing.

“Okay. I'll give your parents a call later on, and if they're okay with it, I'll tell the students, and we can make a start on the memorials. We will need to fundraise for the garden, and so I'll let you know when we get any ideas.”

“Okay,” Tina whispered. She and Gene stood, and they headed to Gene's classroom. As she sat down, she wondered if it wasn't the best idea for Frond to call her parents. She didn't think they would be up to hear; Tina worried if they heard about the plans, it would upset them even more, and then Linda would drink more heavily.

Tina couldn't get the idea out of her head, and it played on her mind throughout the lesson. She couldn't help but wonder how they would take the news.

* * *

“Hello? Bob, Linda?” Big Bob opened the door to the apartment with his key, and saw a man approach out of the corner of his eye.

“Wait!” Teddy gasped as he caught up with the elder man. “Let me in; I gotta see them!” He placed his hands on his knees, panting.

“Maybe not right now,” said Big Bob. “I think it should just be me.”

“But I'm his best friend; maybe I can help,” Teddy looked up at the window, concern written all over his face.

“I get you wanna help, but too many people is just gonna overwhelm them.”

“No, no, no, they need to be around people; being alone isn't good,” Teddy insisted.

“Just give it a day or two. Just give them some time to process this a little, yeah?” said Big Bob, before stepping inside, and shutting the door. Teddy looked back up at the window, before slowly walking away. “Bob? Linda?” Big Bob called again, walking up the stairs.

The living-room was empty, but Linda was in the kitchen, asleep at the table. There was an empty wine bottle next to her, and Big Bob bit his lip worriedly. He knew she liked a drink or two; heck, they all did, but this was way too much. He felt like getting rid of all the wine in the house, but he didn't. She was grieving. She'd lost her youngest child; if she needed a little alcohol to numb the pain, then who was he to judge? He sure knew what she was going through. And it wasn't like she couldn't function; she was still caring for her children; she was walking and talking. So, he decided to wait a little while; he just needed to be there for them. Besides, it was only because it had been a week; Linda was bound to find it harder than usual.

He gently took her arm, and shook her shoulder.

“Wha – what?” Her head lolled around, her eyes bleary.

“It's all right,” said Big Bob quietly, placing his arm around her shoulders, and leading her out of the room. “Come with me.” Linda said nothing, and merely leaned into him as he walked her down the hall, and opened the bedroom door. Inside, he could see Bob lying face-down on his bed. The sight of even more wine bottles didn't make him feel good at all, but what could he do? He couldn't force them to cut down. But perhaps these bottles had been left there over the past week.

He got that terrible jolt, the one every parent feels when they lose sight of their kid in the supermarket, but that quickly dissipated when he saw his son move. Sighing in relief, Big Bob guided Linda to the bed, and covered them both over with a blanket.

“Wha-?” Linda turned her head, but did not lift it from the pillow. Bob only moaned, and buried his face further into his pillow.

“It's all right,” Big Bob assured them, not knowing if they were listening. “You just get some sleep; I'll watch the house, and the kids, when they come home.” Linda had already gone back to sleep, and so Big Bob retreated to the kitchen, and began to clean.

He was careful about what he touched; he wasn't too sure if Louise had her own special plate, bowl, or cup, so he didn't wash any dishes. It was also the same reason he didn't do too much laundry; again, Louise might have a special blanket or toy, and it wasn't his place to wash it, and make it lose her scent. He washed all the clothes that he knew didn't belong to her, but he didn't touch any of the blankets, leaving them, along with some of Louise's dresses and T-shirts, in the bottom of the laundry basket.

His heart heavy, he cleaned the counter tops, swept, and cleaned the oven. He also organised the fridge, and cleaned the pots and pans, so he could prepare dinner later.

He cleaned the living-room, clearing away all of the rubbish, dusting; he straightened up the bookshelves, and polished the television screen, and the coffee table. Honestly, it was the least he could do for his family; any little thing that would help, he would do his best to do.

When everything had been cleaned, Bob and Linda had still not awakened. Big Bob checked on them, before sitting on the sofa, with nothing to do but wait until Gene and Tina arrived home from school, or until Bob and Linda woke up.

* * *

Logan hurried into Huxley High as the final bell rang, his head down, and his hood pulled up. His arrival was timed so that he didn't have to spend any time loitering in the halls; that was just asking for trouble.

He slipped into his chair for first period English just as his teacher picked up the register. Logan pulled his hood down, knowing that it was against the rules, and keeping it up would only result in unwanted attention. He hunched down over his desk, and spoke only once, to answer his name, and did not make eye contact with anyone.

As the lesson went on, something hit the back of his head, causing him to jump slightly, but he didn't dare turn around. His right hand gripped his pencil, and his left clutched the desk, and he braced himself for another hit, but it never came. He still didn't relax, however, and kept himself tense, so as to be prepared.

He had just let his guard down, the teacher had turned around, and he was hit again. It was only a crumpled up piece of paper, but it made his heart race. He shouldn't be here; it was dangerous. He'd told his mother that going back to school was a bad idea, but she didn't listen, as usual. What was wrong with that woman? She never listened.

As soon as classes were over, Logan bolted from his seat, and walked as quickly as he could, weaving between the students on their way to lunch, his head down.

“Logan!”

He had almost walked right into someone.

“Oh. Hey, Scotty.” The two teens stood there awkwardly, neither of them knowing what to say.

“So, you're back,” said Scotty, his face unreadable.

“Yeah.” Logan paused. “Look, I gotta go; I got.. something to do,” he lied, before continuing on his way.

Logan made his way outside, and went around the side of the school, intending to leave the property until class resumed. Not too far, he just wanted to be outside of the perimeter, where he wouldn't be harassed.

“Hey, Bush!”

Logan turned around, and was met with a punch to the face.

“Aargh!” he stumbled backwards, hands pressed over his bleeding nose, before he received a punch to the stomach, followed by another. Doubling over in pain, he looked up, and saw Jamie Booth, a twelfth grader, tall and well-built, with short black hair, who used to do wrestling. Upon seeing Jamie's angry face, Logan knew he was screwed. “It was just an accident!” he cried, as a small crowd began to gather. A fair few students exited the playground, and stood around the two boys.

“Accidents don't kill people!” cried a girl whom he did not know. Logan looked around helplessly, and saw that many of the audience had their phones out, and were filming.

“I don't wanna fight!” he gasped, standing up straight, and wiping blood off his face. Jamie only smirked and approached him. The burly eighteen-year-old shoved Logan, causing the younger teen to stumble backwards, and he fell to the ground.

Logan got to his feet, and assumed a protective stance. Everything he'd learnt in his karate lessons seemed to have gone from his head.

“Come on, then, Mr Miyagi,” Jamie's hazel eyes glinted as he smirked. “Come on; show me what you're made of!”

“I don't wanna fight,” Logan repeated, wiping his nose again.

“If you're brave enough to bully a little girl, then you're brave enough to pick on someone your own size. Come on!” Jamie insisted, his fists up and ready.

“You're bigger than me!” It was true; Jamie had five inches, and at least thirty pounds on him.

“Oh, I get it; you can dish it out, but you can't take it, huh?” Jamie moved forward quickly, his right hook sinking into Logan's face. For someone so large, he was very agile.

“Stop it!” His jaw was throbbing, and his mouth was full of blood from where his teeth had cut into his gums.

“No way, Killer.”

“I'm not going to fight,” Logan spat out a mouthful of blood, as his voice and knees shook.

“Fine by me.” Jamie had quickly moved forward again, and had knocked Logan to the ground in one swift move. He then bent down, and grabbed Logan's shirt, pulling him up, before throwing him back down to the floor, landing a kick to his ribs.

Logan lay there on the ground, feeling as though all the wind had been knocked out of him. “Get up,” Jamie ordered. “Come on, get up!” he said, prodding Logan with the tip of his shoe.

Against his better judgement, Logan rose to his feet, spitting out another mouthful of blood. At least if he was standing, he had a better chance of fighting back. He balanced his weight on the balls of his feet, and raised his hands in a defensive stance.

Jamie was standing a few feet away, watching him and smirking. The rest of the kids were still hanging around, still recording, watching with great interest as though it was a favourite show of theirs.

Jamie approached again, and Logan tightened his core, panting slightly. Jamie's fist shot out, and he managed to block it with a forearm strike.

His success was short lived, as Jamie got in another punch to the face, and another. Logan moved back, clutching his eye. He could already feel the bruise forming. With him distracted, Jamie hooked his foot behind Logan's knees, and the teen crumpled to the ground.

“Aargh!” Logan groaned, rubbing his back, it surely bruised as well, now.

“Aw, too much for you, Killer?” Jamie taunted, getting another kick in, this time to the stomach. Logan felt nauseous, his ribs pounding, the feeling of blood dripping into his mouth making him gag.

Jamie loomed over him menacingly, before kicking him in the “V” directly under his ribs, and Logan's body jolted with the impact. His fists clenching, the teen gasped, crying out breathlessly. He felt as though his diaphragm had been paralysed. He'd never felt such pain, and the eager faces and chattering of the students only made it worse.

“All right, now break it up. Break it up!”

Logan opened one eye to see Principal Nolan grab Jamie and drag him away. “Back inside, all of you!” he snapped, clapping his hands at the students, many of whom looked disappointed, but obeyed. “You; detention for two weeks, starting today!” he pointed at Jamie, before bending down next to Logan.

“Aw, but, sir -!”

“I don't wanna hear it; get inside!”

With an angry growl, Jamie stomped away, leaving Nolan and Logan alone.

“Are you all right?” the man asked quietly, as Logan sat up.

“I'm fine,” Logan gasped, wincing at the pain.

“You've got quite a few injuries; let me take you to the nurse.”

“No!” Logan, now on his feet, began to slowly walk down the street. “I'll just go home.”

“Logan, you're hurt, please let me help.”

“No; I just wanna go home.”

Principal Nolan caught the wobble in his voice.

“Okay; you can go home. We'll sort it out later,” he relented.

Logan made his way home as quickly as he could, which was difficult given his condition. He went by the side streets so as not to be seen, keeping his head down, his hands gently clutching his stomach.

When he arrived home, he leaned against the door, breathing heavily. He closed his eyes as he heard footsteps, and heard his mother gasp.

“Logan! Oh, my God, what happened?!”

“I got beat up,” his voice wobbled again, and he clutched his stomach harder.

“Oh, my God! Come here,” Cynthia placed her arm around his shoulders and guided into the living-room, and sat him on the sofa. “Wait here,” she told him, and left the room. Logan remained where he was, and wiped his nose with a slightly shaking hand, before Cynthia returned with a bowl of water, and an ice pack. “Who did it?” she asked, handing him the ice pack, and Logan held it up to his eye.

“Jamie Booth,” he said, watching his mother dipping a cloth into the water, and gently dabbing his face.

“Why?”

Upon hearing this, Logan looked up at her.

“Why?” he repeated incredulously. “Because they're mad about Louise, that's why! I _told_ you this would happen! But you didn't listen,” he snarled.

“All right, calm down,” she put the cloth down. “Are you gonna be okay? I need to call the school.” Without waiting for an answer, she stood, and pulled her phone from her pocket.

“ _Huxley High School, how can I help you?”_ answered the receptionist.

“I want to speak to the principal, regarding an incident that happened to my son today,” said Cynthia.

“ _One moment, ma'am.”_

Cynthia began to pace slowly as her call was put through.

“ _Hello, Principal Nolan speaking.”_

“This is Cynthia Bush; my son was assaulted at your school today. What are you going to do about it?” she demanded.

“ _Ah, Mrs Bush, I was going to call you. I am so sorry about what happened. I've been compiling a list of witnesses, and been talking to the boy who started the fight.”_

“It was _not_ a fight – wait, witnesses? What witnesses?” Cynthia turned around to face Logan, but as he opened his mouth, Nolan began to speak, and Cynthia held up her hand to him.

“ _Several of the students were watching, Mrs Bush, and so I've been talking to them.”_

“So, you let a group of kids watch my son being beaten? I hope they're going to be punished?”

“ _Well, ma'am, once we've spoken to everyone, and find out what actually happened, then we can decide on the punishment.”_

“What will it be?”

“ _We're not too sure at the moment, ma'am, as the attack happened outside of school property.”_

“You left school?” she looked over at Logan, who nodded. “Why?”

“Because I didn't want something like this happening!” he gestured to his face, and Cynthia returned her attention to her phone.

“Well, what about the other boy? The instigator? What's his punishment going to be?”

“ _We've given him detention for two weeks, and we have called his parents and notified them of the situation.”_

“Detention for two weeks?” Cynthia dead-panned. “That's it? You think that's enough for the vicious attack on my child? Oh, you are useless!” she snapped, hanging up, and facing her son. “Why didn't you tell me there were people just standing around and watching?”

“You didn't exactly give me a chance,” he pointed out.

“I think that's disgusting, and I think we should call the police,” she said, sitting back down next to Logan.

“What?”

“I'm going to file an assault report.”

“Mom, no!” he grabbed her wrist as she reached for her phone once again.

“Why not? Don't you want them punished?”

“It'll get worse if you do that,” he said. “When Jamie finds out, he'll kick my ass even worse!”

“No, he won't; he'll be in jail.”

“Not forever. Ever heard of bail? And when he gets out on bail, he's gonna come looking for me. Don't do it, Mom.”

“But look what he's done to you!” she spluttered.

“If you do it, he'll do it again, but worse. Or somebody else will; you can't get everyone thrown in jail. If you go to the police, I won't say anything,” Logan insisted, staring his mother in the eye, trying to make her see sense.

“... All right, I won't go to the police. But, we're going to the doctor, just to make sure you're okay,” she said, and Logan nodded. He knew it would probably be just some bruising, with the worst of the damage being the inside of his cheek. All of which could be dealt with at home.

“I'm not going back to school any more,” he said, once again, as he and Cynthia stood..

“Okay, fine,” she said, and Logan blinked. It looked as though it had finally sunk in.

* * *

Tina and Gene found themselves back at St. Peter's Cathedral when school had let out, and were again looking for the reverend. Rather than go into the back room, as she had done the previous time, Tina simply waited for him to come out. The both of them waited in silence, Gene looking straight ahead at the knave, while Tina's gaze was focused on the beautiful stained glass windows. She had always been fascinated by them, about how all the little different coloured bits of glass were able to be stuck together in just the right place to make a picture. She'd used to try making her own when she was younger, using coloured tissue paper, but they never turned out right.

Reverend Brooks came out of the room after a while, and offered the children a warm smile upon spotting them.

“Good afternoon, what can I do for you today?” he asked, approaching them.

“Reverend? Would it be all right if we had photos of Louise in here?”

Brooks looked down at her sadly, though he did not let it show on his face.

“Of course it will.”

“Thank you,” Tina paused before continuing. “Even big ones?”

“Yes, of course,” the minister repeated.

“Reverend, can we have a song playing while – while Louise is being.. buried?”

“I see no reason why not. Is it going to be a live band or a pre-recorded artist?”

“Pre-recorded, on a CD.”

“Yes, that can be arranged.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, it won't be any problem at all. We have some portable speakers in the back, and your phone will plug right in.”

“Oh. We don't have it on a phone.” Tina hung her head.

“Oh. That's okay. If a friend or a relative has a phone, then they can play the song through it.”

“Okay,” said Tina. “We can do that.”

“All right,” the priest nodded. “Don't worry about bringing the photos and the music here; it will all be taken care of.”

“By who?”

“Your funeral director has already arranged it; Mort, his name is. He's agreed to bring the music here, so it's ready when everyone arrives, and I'm sure he won't mind bringing the pictures.”

“Okay,” said Tina “Well, thanks again.”

“You're welcome. Goodbye.”

“Bye.”

Tina and Gene arrived home to find the house looking cleaner than it had for a while, and the whole family gathered in the living-room.

“Hey, kids,” whispered Gayle, who couldn't seem to keep her hands off her locket.

“Hi. Pop-pop, will you help me with something?” asked Tina, as she took a seat next to her father.

“Of course; anything, sweetheart,” he said kindly. “But first, I want to show you something, that just arrived.”

Tina noticed a rather large box, and for reasons she couldn't quite explain, she didn't want to know what was inside.

“Who sent that?” she whispered.

“Mort; you two just missed him.” Big Bob took the lid off the box and pulled out several smaller boxes, opening them all. He lifted up something silver, and once Linda realised what it was, she gasped.

“Her hand,” she said quietly, reaching out for the cast, but Big Bob handed her a different one.

“This ones yours,” he told her. “They've been engraved with the names,” he pointed to the bottom of one of the wrists, where the words 'Linda and Louise' were neatly written. Linda took the cast, her shoulders shaking. She never expected it to be so detailed, so lifelike; she could see every line, every crease, everything. Linda could see the little dimples on the back of her Louise's hand, the little creases on the knuckles, and every minute detail on her little fingernails.

“Oh, God!” she clutched it to her chest.

Big Bob handed everyone else their casts, holding his own tightly. Also in the box were the Plaster of Paris casts, and the individual casts of Louise's hand, and he handed those out, as well.

“It's so small,” Bob sniffled, examining the little handprint. Louise's entire hand would fit into Bob's palm easily. “I never realised how tiny her hands are.”

Tina took her casts, and handprint, noting that they were heavier than she expected. Now, she was extremely glad that she'd gotten it done; seeing Louise's hand being tenderly held by her own, offered her a small bit of comfort.

Gene was staring at his own cast, and he was holding the handprint up to his face, as if trying to memorise it. The handprint was extremely detailed, as well, and he gently touched it. He could feel all the little creases and lines; it felt just like he was touching her hand.

“I'll be right back,” Tina murmured, rising and heading out of the room, pausing to grab her parents' phone on the way. Once in her room, Tina placed them on her dresser in front of the mirror. She didn't want to put them on her nightstand, not yet. At that moment, just knowing they were in her room was enough.

Sitting on her bed, Tina opened the phone, as Gene came into her room, and texted Zeke.

_'Hey Zeke its Tina Belcher. The food for the reception is_

_cheese and crackers_

_sandwiches_

_potato wedges with dip_

_cocktail sausages,_

_pizza fingers_

_cake'_

Tina lay back on her bed, and barely had time to look at the ceiling before the phone buzzed and she looked back at the screen.

_'sure thing girl. what kinda sandwich filling do u want also if u want different kinds of pizza lmk'_

_'I hadn't thought about fillings or different pizza types. Sorry,'_ she texted, feeling a little guilty about making him do even more work.

_'got any ideas?'_

_'Not really. Anything simple.'_

_'u got it. cheese pizza and pepperoni pizza ok? any type of cake?'_

_'That's fine.'_

_'alright then. if u want somethin special lmk anything its not a problem'_

_'Ok'._

Tina put down the phone and headed back into the living room. She wasn't as helpful as she could have been, and both she and Zeke knew that, but they also knew that Tina was doing her best. Zeke wasn't about to pester her with information when it was obvious that the poor girl was doing everything she could to keep it together.

“Pop-pop?” she asked, looking at the Belcher family hand cast that now rested on the coffee table. She couldn't take her eyes off it; both of Bob's hands, then both of Linda's, then both of hers and both of Gene's, gently holding Louise's, from biggest to smallest.

“Tina? What is it?” her grandad's voice brought her back to reality.

“Can you take me to the mall tomorrow after school?”

“Sure, I can. What's it for?”

“I'm going to print out some photos of Louise; for Saturday, you know.” Tina heard the sharp intake of breath from her father, but kept her eyes forward.

“Sure,” Big Bob repeated. “I'll pick you and Gene up when school finishes, okay?” Tina nodded.

“We'd better go now,” said Bob quietly. “Mort won't let us in after five.”

“Okay,” said Linda, as they rose, and left to go and visit Louise.

* * *

Wiping down a recently vacated table, Jimmy Pesto Senior became aware of a tapping sound. Looking up, he glanced around for the source. Trev was behind the bar, wiping menus, and more than half the tables were full of customers, eating and chattering away.

He then caught sight of a man outside, looking at him and tapping on the glass, and so Jimmy gestured for him to come inside, to see what he wanted. He wasn't about to stand outside in the chilly March air.

“Yeah, can I help?” he asked, standing at an angle, so as to keep one eye on the restaurant. The man was much shorter than he, and was holding a small tablet, along with a stylus, which was poised over the screen.

“Hi, my name's Alan Summerville; I'm a reporter over at the _Oceanside Times._ I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions about Louise Belcher?”

“Me?” Jimmy looked slightly taken aback. “Why?”

“Well, you live opposite them, you know the Belcher family, right?”

“Uh, yeah, I do.”

“Isn't there anything you want to say about Louise? Anything at all?”

“Uh...” If he had to be honest, Jimmy felt slightly put on the spot, and he didn't really know what to say. He looked over at Bob's shabby restaurant, at the empty diner, the 'closed' sign, and at the apartment above the little eatery. The apartment that seemed to radiate with sadness. “What do ya wanna know?”

“Well, what was she like?”

“Well, she was.. full of beans,” he said honestly, after a while. “Always busy, always into things.”

“What kind of things?”

“Normal kid stuff, you know? Making lots of noise, playing with her brother and sister -”

“She was friends with your children, wasn't she?” Alan interrupted.

“Uh, yeah; they would play over at her house sometimes, yeah.”

“And she was a happy child?”

Jimmy hesitated again. 'Crazy' would have been his first word to describe Louise; very loud, a little bit unhinged, and bossy were rather fitting, he thought. But, he just couldn't bring himself to say those things. Louise had some good qualities, he was sure. He'd just never taken the time to find out what they were.

“Yeah; real happy,” he said, after a moment. “Just a real, normal kid, you know? I know she was real close to her family, real close.”

“And how do you think her family are feeling right now?”

“No, I – no. No comment.” Jimmy smoothed back his hair, regretting speaking to the man. “Come on, man, out you get; I got work to do.”

“All right, then. Thanks for speaking with me,” said Alan, before turning around and walking out. Jimmy only shook his head as he watched the man walk away.

“Who was that?” came a squeaky voice from behind him, causing him to jump.

“Ah!” He turned around to see Andy and Ollie standing together. Looking about, he saw Jimmy Jr. standing nearby. “Oh. Has school finished already?” he asked, more to himself.

“Yeah, school finished at 3, and it's now 3:30,” Andy told him. At least, he thought it was Andy. Hey, they were identical; it was only natural if he sometimes got them mixed up.

“That was a reporter,” he told them, shooing them away from the windows.

“Well, what did he want?”

“He wanted to talk to me about Louise,” said Jimmy honestly, noticing how the boys' glanced at one another.

“It's her funeral on Saturday,” said Ollie quietly, both twins looking down at the floor.

“Yeah,” was all Jimmy said.

“Are we going to it?” asked Andy, and Jimmy was again caught off guard.

“Uh, I don't know; I haven't really thought about it,” he admitted, noting that the the twins exchanged glances once again. “Do ya wanna go?” he asked.

“Yes,” they replied in unison.

“I don't,” came Jimmy Jr's voice, from where he was now sat on a barstool. “I don't like funerals; they're creepy.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean.” Jimmy looked back at the twins. “Maybe you're a bit young for that kinda thing...” he trailed off.

“But we wanna go!” cried Andy.

“Why?” asked Jimmy Jr.

“Because Louise is our friend,” Ollie told him, looking over his shoulder.

“Well, if you really wanna go, then I'll take you,” Jimmy promised. “I suppose you oughta get a chance to say goodbye.” It wasn't as if they had to go up to the casket, he reasoned; he himself probably wouldn't. Seeing a dead body wasn't on his list of things he wanted to see, and he doubted that it ever would be.

“Dad, I don't wanna go!” whined Jimmy Jr.

“All right! You don't have to go,” said his father, taking a hurried look around at his customers. “You can stay here.”

“By myself?” the teen looked hopeful.

“Depends on if Trev's going,” Jimmy decided that he would ask his faithful bartender later. Trev would probably go if Jimmy was. Jimmy Jr. would be okay on his own for a few hours; it wasn't like he was a toddler. As long as there was Wi-Fi, and food in the fridge, then he'd be fine.

* * *

Later that evening, Tina sat back down at the laptop, continuing her work on the tribute video, finishing it two hours later.

She'd gotten up the courage to ask Mort if they could use his phone for the final song, the one that was to be played at the cemetery, and he'd agreed. He had said he would be able to find the song, but Tina had insisted on using his computer in the other room, and getting the right one. She had to make sure that he didn't accidentally download the wrong version, or the right one with an inappropriate intro or outro. It had to go right.

Whilst the video was being downloaded onto a new DVD, Tina, desperate for something to do, made a start on her homework. Gene, however, did not, and only watched the progress bar on the screen.

“Gene?” she said quietly. “You okay?” It was a stupid question, and she knew it, but she didn't know what else to say. As was expected, he didn't answer, and Tina grew more worried. Seven whole days, and Gene had not uttered a word. She didn't know whether it was normal or not. The grown-ups didn't seem too concerned, so maybe she shouldn't be, either? But she was worried; this was Gene; he had never been this quiet in his entire life, except perhaps when he was in the womb. She decided to wait until after the.. funeral; he was just processing everything. They all were. “Are you coming with me and Pop-pop tomorrow?” she asked. “To get pictures?”

Gene didn't look at her. “You don't have to talk,” she reminded him, “but please just nod or shake your head.” She kept her head down, focused on writing in her school book, which rested on her knees, but she saw Gene nod out of the corner of her eye, and she breathed a small sigh of relief. At least he was still interacting; he hadn't shut down completely. That was good, right?

When Tina had finished her homework, which truthfully, was quite badly done (which could only be expected), she placed it in her backpack. When the video had finished, she put the new DVD into a clear case, marked “tribute for Louise,” on it with black pen and put it safely in her desk drawer.

Tomorrow, they would print out the pictures, and then they were done. All that was left to do was... bury her sister.

Tina shook her head slightly, before closing the laptop, and crawling in her bed. She reached under her blanket, and pulled her shoes off, feeling Gene flop down beside her.

* * *

The following afternoon, Tina and Gene waited outside their school for their grandad. They stood just off to the side of the steps, and watched the cars drive by. Zeke was waiting with them; he wasn't going to go to the mall, but he stood there to make sure no one pestered them.

Soon enough, Big Bob pulled up as promised, and Tine and Gene climbed in, with Tina giving Zeke a small wave.

Tina had been doing her best to interact with her friends, but people still kept staring, kept treating her as though she was made of glass, and she wasn't sure how much longer she could handle it, especially as Rudy kept following her around like a lost puppy.

Pulling up outside OMG Mall, the three of them went inside, and they headed straight to Snap Decision Photography. Tina had a memory stick with all the photos she needed on it, and they wordlessly went over to the printing booth.

Two photos of a smiling Louise were the largest and would be displayed on the altar at the church. The rest would be slightly larger than normal photo size, and arranged around the house for the reception.

With each photo that printed, Tina grew sadder and sadder, and the happier the picture was, the more she couldn't look. She was immensely glad when they were done, and Big Bob took all the pictures over to the counter.

The large box of photos was carefully placed in the back seat of the car, and then they drove home. When they arrived back at the apartment, all the rest of the family were there, sat in the living-room.

Linda was holding Bakeneko, and Bob was cuddling Dodomeki, and Al, Gloria, and Gayle were scattered about the room.

“How was school?” asked Gayle when Tina and Gene walked in, with Big Bob following them.

“Fine. We went to the mall, and printed some out some photos of Louise,” Tina gestured to the box that Big Bob was holding. He placed it on the table and opened it, the family gathering around to examine the photos.

“Oh, I love that one,” said Al, pointing to a picture of a smiling five-year-old Louise, her front teeth missing.

“This one is adorable,” Gayle picked up a photo of little six-year-old Louise standing at an angle, and holding a hula hoop. Her smile was wide, like she was in the middle of laughing.

Another photo was taken just last year; one of Louise with her face in one of those face-in-hole seaside photo booths, one of a lobster. There was a photo of Louise riding her big-girl bike, a photo of five-year-old Louise on her dad's shoulders; on the Scramble Pan when she was three. Her first time ice-skating when she was four, Linda behind her and holding her hands; standing on a stool next to Bob in the kitchen, elbow deep in cake batter, when she was three; baby Louise being held proudly by Linda.

As Louise had gotten older, she had enjoyed posing for the camera less and less. It wasn't that she was shy; far from it, but she disliked taking time out of her day to freeze and smile, especially as Linda insisted on getting at least two or three pictures of every occasion. Hence why there were more candid photos as Louise grew. There was a picture of Louise, Gene, and Tina a couple of years ago, in the middle of building a snowman, Louise's face, pink from the cold, scrunched up in concentration. Holding several water balloons under her arm, with another one in her hand, ready to strike; carving a pumpkin with her siblings.

Tina decided that she liked the candid photos the best; they showed the real Louise.

The one that hurt Tina's heart the most was the one at the bottom of the pile. It was taken on Christmas morning, Louise's last Christmas. Linda had taken lots of photos that morning, as she did every year, but she had taken this photo of Louise, standing in front of the tree, her arms full up with her new toys, grinning widely.

Tina stared at the photo. It was the last ever picture anyone had taken of Louise. If she had only known that she had less than two months left with her precious sister, she would have photographed and videoed every second of every day. And she wouldn't have let her go to Wharf Park.

She said nothing, and focused on all of the pictures, as she heard her parents try to compose themselves. When their crying had subsided somewhat, she began to gather them all up into a neat little pile, and placed them back in the box.

Tina stored the box safely in her bedroom, before returning to get ready to visit Louise in the Chapel of Rest with the rest of her family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Zeke is a saint, and I won't hear a word otherwise.  
> What did you think? I'd love to know.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: you may need a tissue.

Learning to Live Without You

Chapter 6

The day of Louise's funeral had finally arrived. Tina lay in bed, not wanting to get up. She looked over, and saw that Gene was awake, too, staring at the ceiling.

Feeling drained and her limbs heavy, Tina forced herself to get out of bed, but she felt that with every step she took, she felt more and more lost, and she stood in the middle of her room, not knowing what to do.

Gene was still in her bed, and Tina slowly walked over to him. Listlessly, she took his hand, and pulled him into a sitting position. It should have been hard; he was just as lethargic as she was, but she didn't even notice.

Tina could hear the low murmurs of her parents' voices as she pulled on her black catering dress, along with a black jacket and shoes, and pulled the tribute DVD out of her desk before making her way out of her room, putting it safely in the living-room. The food and drink was already laid out buffet style in front of the window in the living-room, on a few folding tables covered with white cloths. Zeke had brought it all over early that morning. There were trays of sandwiches, all covered with plastic wrap; BLTs, turkey, bacon and salad club sandwiches, simple ham and cheese ones; another plate of round crackers, neatly arranged, and the cheeses were in the fridge, along with the potato wedges, and the salads.

Zeke really had gone above and beyond, Tina thought, looking at the platters of artfully arranged snacks. When did he get so good at plating? He'd even brought over bottles of sauces and jars of dips, and there were at least twenty delicious looking home-made pizzas, all cut up into strips. She could see that the chocolate cake and the brownies were home-made, as well.

Unbeknownst to her, Mort had already dropped by, and had taken the CD to the church, so that it would be playing when they walked in. Everyone was coming; Louise's friends', her teachers, the neighbours, etc. At least, that's what she assumed.

The room was surrounded with photos of Louise; the larger ones tacked the to the walls, others in frames resting on any surface that would hold them, and they were spread all over the house.

Bob and Linda were in the kitchen, sat at the table, both of them looking sick. Bob was wearing a black formal suit and tie, while Linda was in a simple short-sleeved black dress that fell a few inches below the knee, with black flats, and a black jacket. Tina wondered where they had got the clothes from.

“Tina. There you are,” Bob said as she entered the kitchen. Before Tina could answer, there came a knock at the door, and she went to answer it. She opened it to see Big Bob, Gayle, Al, and Gloria standing on the doorstep, all dressed in black. They each pulled her into a tight hug, before going upstairs.

While the rest of her family gathered in the kitchen, Tina remained at the top of the stairs. This was it, she realised; today was the day they would have to say goodbye to Louise forever. Tina felt like crying. It was almost too much to bear; after today, none of them would ever see her again. But she couldn't cry; the tears just wouldn't come out.

After a while, Bob came out of the kitchen and approached Tina. She could see Louise's old pink beanie peeking out of his jacket pocket. “Tina?” he crouched down to her level. “Tina, I just wanted to thank you.”

“For what?”

“For everything you've done; you've organised the.. funeral, got everything ready; if it weren't for you, nothing would have got done. I just wanna say how proud I am of you; you've been so strong, and I'm supposed to be the strong one; I'm the parent. I think you've been just great.”

“Thanks, Dad,” Tina whispered, and they embraced tightly. Gene slowly ambled up beside them, wearing a small black suit, with black shorts and black dress shoes, and Tina again wondered where he got it from.

“I guess it's time to go,” came Gloria's voice, as the rest of the family came into the hallway.

But none of them left. They stood where they were; for what, they didn't know.

“Come on,” said Big Bob sadly. “Or we'll really be late,” and the family slowly walked out of the house. Outside was a sleek, black funeral limo, big enough to seat them all, which had pink ribbons decorating the front. Inside were plush leather seats, and a mahogany lining; it was an exquisite car, but Tina was focused on what was in front of the limo. A small, white, traditional Victorian closed carriage, with old-fashioned lanterns on either side, at the front, and a glass front, back and sides. The corners of the glass were etched with flowers, and the floral arrangements spelling Louise's name were arranged on the top of the carriage, behind the intricately carved finials.

Attached to the carriage were two beautiful white horses; Tina knew instantly that they were Dutch Gelderlanders, and the horses were decorated with pink drapes and plumes. The coachman, dressed all in black, a pink rose in his front pocket, was already sat at the front.

On any other occasion, she would have been thrilled to see a horse, seeing two horses. Two extremely beautiful horses at that. But she didn't care. She didn't care about seeing these horses, and she didn't care if she never saw a horse again in her life.

Turning away from them, she caught sight of three cars behind the limo. Three extra hearses, packed full of flowers of all different colours and types. For some reason, Tina couldn't stop looking at those cars; Mort had said there would be two, and there were three there. There were three hearses full of flowers, and Mort said there would only be two.

Tina became aware that her family had stopped shuffling about, and she turned back around, and froze. Mort, along with a few other men she didn't know, were carrying Louise's coffin, and she gasped. That casket, that tiny, pink casket with the gold corners and handles was carrying her sister. Stepping back, she could only stare helplessly, as the coffin, as Louise, was placed on the platform inside the carriage. More of the funeral flowers spelling out her name were placed either side of the coffin.

She gazed at it, for seemingly ages, until she felt a hand on her shoulder, and she allowed herself to be guided to the limo.

The slow, silent drive to the church seemed to take a lifetime. The family sat in the back of the car, while another man Tina didn't know drove slowly behind the carriage. She alternated between looking at the carriage, and looking out of the window.

She soon became aware of people in the streets, which was normal, but there were so many people, and they were all lining up along the street, watching them. Tina could see people holding flowers, teddies, candles; she could see people crying, and wiping their eyes.

“Who are they?” she asked, nodding at the crowd.

“They're mourners,” Big Bob told her, and the rest of the family began to look out of the windows, as well.

“Why?”

“These are all the people who were watching the news,” he said. “They wanted to show support.”

“Oh.” Tina looked away from the throngs of saddened mourners, and looked back at the carriage in front of her. She did not look back at the three hearses full of flowers.

* * *

Finally, they reached the church; on the notice board outside, the words “Louise Belcher funeral service” were written. Reverend Brooks was standing at the entrance to the church.

As they got out of their cars, the other guests were arriving; there was Principal Spoors, Mr Frond, Miss LaBonz, and Mr Ambrose, along with all of the other Wagstaff teachers, all of them dressed in black formal wear.

Zeke was there, wearing a slightly worn suit that looked a little bit too big for him, along with his dad and stepmum, his stepbrother, his cousin Leslie, and even his grandma.

Regular-sized Rudy was there, with both of his parents, and everyone in Louise's class had shown up, plus their parents. Millie was wearing a full length black dress with a veil over her face, and she was crying.

It seemed like everyone in Seymour's Bay and Bog Harbour had shown up; Tina had never seen so many people in one place. Edith and Harold, Teddy, Jimmy Pesto, Trev, the twins, and Jimmy Jr.; Gretchen, Mickey, even the Fischoeder brothers.

Nat the limo driver was there, wearing a black suit, and it was the first time Tina had seen her wear anything but pink, barring her pink bow tie, and a little pink rabbit shaped badge on her lapel. The One-Eyed Snakes were there, bar Sidecar, who was naturally too young to sit quietly through a funeral service. The biker gang were dressed in their neatest black outfits; the ones with the least rips, tears, and bloodstains.

She even spotted Koji and Yuki; Koji had his arm around his daughter's shoulders as they walked slowly up to the church, the both of them looking solemn. Bob didn't see them, and even if he had, he couldn't find the energy to care.

To her dismay, she could see several reporters with cameras and shotgun microphones, filming both them, and the mourning crowd. They were quiet, much quieter than they ever had been during the rescue attempt, and she sincerely hoped that they wouldn't come inside the church.

Tina avoided eye contact with everyone as she walked towards the entrance to the church with her family. When they approached, Reverend Brooks, stood aside, and led them inside.

The aisle was lined with flowers, along with the Kuchi Kopi and heart balloons, alternating with every pew. Music by Boyz 4 Now was playing quietly. Up on the altar was Louise's coffin, the lid open, a large bunch of red roses now placed on the top. Tina's breath caught in her throat when she saw it and she grabbed her dad's hand as they filed into the front row and sat down. On each side of the altar were two large photos of a smiling Louise, resting on easels.

She looked around, as everyone took their seats. There were so many people that there weren't enough seats, and many of them had to stand. Tina found that she recognised many of the people who had worked so hard to save Louise; the two policemen who had laid beside the well; that police lady who had kept talking to her parents. She saw the two paramedics that had arrived that Friday evening; the police and fire Chiefs were there, too, along with a lot of men she vaguely recognised as the diggers.

It was then that she realised that these people hadn't been just doing their jobs; they were here because they cared, and they were genuinely upset that Louise hadn't survived.

She looked along the bench; her father and mother were seated next to the aisle, she was next to Linda, and Gene was next to her. Then came Gayle, Al, Gloria, Big Bob, and Teddy. Their schoolfriends and neighbours took up the pews behind them, while the rescuers sat in the pews on the left hand side.

The people standing appeared to be more mourners, as Tina didn't recognise them. Just before she turned around, she saw four latecomers, dressed neatly in black, their heads down and hoods up, enter the church, and stand at the back.

When everyone was seated and ready, the music stopped, Brooks stood behind the pulpit and began the service.

“Today's service is a small milestone in our shared journey of grief and sorrow. It is our hope that in this service we might perhaps draw a line under one phase of our grieving and begin to look forward.

“We meet in the name of Jesus Christ, who died and was raised to the glory of God the Father. Grace and mercy be with you,” he began, looking out among the mourners.

“And also with you,” answered the congregation.

“We have come together to remember the short life on Earth of Louise Belcher, to share our grief, and to commend her to the eternal care of God. We meet in the faith that death is not the end, and may be faced without fear, bitterness or guilt. God of all mercies, You make nothing in vain and love all that You have made. Comfort us in our grief, and console us by the knowledge of Your unfailing love, through Jesus Christ our Lord.”

“Amen,” muttered the church-goers, their heads bowed. Tina wasn't too sure what he was saying; the Belchers were not church-going people, but she bowed her head respectfully, and kept quiet.

“Our eyes, Lord, are wasted with grief; You know we are weary with groaning. As we remember our death in the dark emptiness of the night, have mercy on us and heal us; forgive us and take away our fear through the dying and rising of Jesus Your Son. Amen.”

“Amen.”

Reverend Brooks looked over at the Belcher family.

“Her death is not in vain,” the priest continued, speaking more personally now. “Somehow, Louise Belcher has touched the whole world. The death of an innocent little child is causing us to do something to make life better. Comfort us, Lord, with the knowledge that the child for whom we grieve is entrusted now to Your loving care. Take her into Your arms and welcome her into paradise where there will be no more sorrow, nor weeping, nor pain.

“Over the past two weeks, we have witnessed the most extraordinary sights. We have seen many strangers flocking to our small town, in the hope that they might have been able to do something to help a child. We have seen thousands upon thousands of flowers, cards and soft toys being laid in memory of Louise. We have seen strangers and friends weeping together in shared grief and anguish. We have seen our town brought together and united in a common grief. And we have seen the extraordinary bravery, courage and dignity of the family. All of this is a direct result of the way that Louise has touched the hearts and lives of so many people.

“It is surely fitting that we are gathered here to pay tribute to her and to rejoice with her as she now rejoices with us.” Brooks paused, looking out over the congregation, before speaking once again. “I hope it is of some comfort to Bob, Linda, and the entire Belcher family to know that they have the love and support not only of everyone at St. Peter's, but also the whole of Seymour's Bay, Bog Harbour, and much, much further afield.

“I have been personally touched by the astonishing number of tributes that have poured in through condolence books and websites, and I am sure that Louise's family will find strength from the tidal wave of emotion that is coming in from all over the world. Everyone I have spoken to has been touched by the messages of support and grief that we have received. Seymour's Bay is a very tight-knit community, and everyone feels an enormous sense of loss.”

“Louise Belcher touched so many lives. Maybe people have had enough of the bullying and mistreatment of children. Maybe her death signals the start of something different, something better for our children. Would not the best and most lasting memorial to this sweet child be a change for the better in how we behave to each other?”

He caught Bob's eye and gave him a look. He'd already agreed to do the eulogy, but he had been struggling. He found it difficult to sum up Louise's life; after all, he didn't know her. Before he could say anything, Bob had stood and had made his way to the altar and Brooks respectfully stepped back.

“I wasn't too sure if I was able to do this,” the man began tentatively, “but now I realise I owe it to my daughter.” He looked over at Tina, who was staring at him, as was Gene. Linda was crying, and the rest of his family were sniffling. He had been mentally fighting with himself over the eulogy; he never thought that he would be able to give it, but when Bob saw Brooks standing up there, he knew what he had to do. “I - ” he paused; he didn't even know where to begin. “I don't know what to say; Louise was... she was my daughter. She was – she was a spark plug. Everyone always says you don't know what you've got 'til it's gone. Well, I never realised just how true that was. Louise really enjoyed life, and lived for the moment. If there was fun to be had, she'd be there. If there was mischief to be caused, she'd be there, and whenever there was a stray animal to be loved, she'd be there.

“I – don't know how I'm supposed to sum up her life; there's not enough time in the world. Yes, Louise was crazy, a prankster, but that's only a small part of who she was; she loved animals, she just loved them. No matter what, she would never leave a stray alone on the streets. If it were up to her, the house would have been a zoo.”

The mourners chuckled lightly in appreciation, and Bob continued. “She always stood up for what she believed in, and she couldn't bear to see her family unhappy. She would do anything to put a smile on our faces. That was Louise, you know? She liked to make people laugh.

“Louise accomplished so much in her life; I can't even mention it; there's not enough time in the world, but she did so many great things that she was so proud of. She – she was an amazing little girl. But was still just an ordinary kid; she liked reading mangas, and watching cartoons; she hid her vegetables around the house, she teased her brother and sister, she preferred to play outside instead of going to school. She truly lived for the moment, never worrying about tomorrow.

“She truly cared about the people she loved; not just her family, but her friends, too. She would go out of her way to help them, even her teachers.

“Louise did so much for this town; probably more than any of you will ever realise; she brought happiness, as well as mischief, and sometimes danger. But that was Louise; always impulsive. You may not realise it, but Louise impacted each and every one of your lives. For better or for worse, every single person in this town has been affected by her; either by being on the receiving end of one of her pranks, or being helped by her. You all knew who she was.

“The world's a darker place without her. We'll never see her run down the street, or playing in the playground. We'll never hear her laughter, or her shouting again, or playing with her brother and sister, or even just sitting down with the family.” Bob was going to have to stop before his tears overwhelmed him. “Please, everyone, remember Louise Belcher. Don't let the memory of her fade away.” Tears falling down his face, he turned to the coffin and kissed Louise's forehead. “I love you so much,” he choked, before making his way back to his seat. Everyone in the church was crying, bar Tina, who still couldn't do it.

One by one, they all rose and made they way to the altar. Tina kissed Louise on the cheek and whispered her goodbyes, Gene said nothing, but also kissed her on the cheek, crying silently. Linda, helped along by Gayle and Gloria, approached the coffin. She shook her head slightly, and bent down, kissing Louise's forehead, her cheeks, clutching onto her baby's hand.

“Goodbye, my sweetie, my baby,” she whispered, before stepping aside. “I love you, my angel.”

Gloria, Al, Gayle, and Big Bob said their goodbyes, giving Louise a final kiss, stroking her face, taking her hand, before they, too, moved aside, and allowed the other mourners to approach the coffin.

As there were so many people, it took quite a while, and Tina and Gene eventually sat back down, waiting for the seemingly never-ending line to finish. She couldn't look when Louise's friends approached the casket, instead focusing on her knees.

Rudy had forgone his parents' offers to go up there with him; he needed to go alone. As he approached, and saw her lying there, he gasped, his eyes filling with tears. He looked down at her still, peaceful face, at the pretty white dress she was wearing, at the bunny ears that would now never leave her head. He saw her Kuchi Kopi night light in the crook of her elbow, and the pretty white blanket edged with pink and green that mostly covered her, leaving her folded, makeup-covered hands free. He could just about see a corner of a photograph peeking out from underneath her hands.

“I'm sorry, Louise,” he whispered. “I'm sorry this happened to you. I'm gonna miss you, so much. Bye.” He tentatively reached out and stroked the lock of hair on her head, and then, before he could change his mind, bent down and kissed her forehead. He quickly went back to his seat, blowing his nose.

Zeke came up, along with his family, pushing his grandma's wheelchair, helping her climb the stairs; Andy and Ollie were both clutching their father's hand, who looked a bit uneasy as they bade Louise goodbye. Jimmy Jr. stood a few feet away, not wanting to get any closer. He tried to make eye contact with Tina as he left, but she looked away.

Koji and Yuki approached together, and whispered a Japanese prayer.

The many volunteers who had dug tirelessly, the policemen, the firemen, the paramedics, all came up to the coffin, all paying their last respects. Tina saw each and every one of them crying, and she felt even more guilty; these people didn't even know Louise, and yet they were crying, but she couldn't. What was wrong with her? Didn't she care enough to cry? She absolutely did, and she wanted to, so bad, but her eyes remained dry.

After a visibly distraught Tim and Charlie left the altar, the four latecomers came up at the same time, their hoods up, which they then lowered. A shock of dark hair and tanned skin; reddish-brown hair and fair skin; a wisp of a moustache and thick brown hair, and – Tina straightened up as the last one removed his hood – soft, fluffy blonde hair, with fair skin. It was Boyz 4 Now. She couldn't believe it. They were silently standing in from of the coffin; if they spoke, she couldn't hear them. Tina looked at the casket, fully expecting Louise to sit bolt upright and slap Boo Boo's face. Tina leaned forward slightly; Louise would sit up, she had to. Boo Boo was right there, he was within touching distance; all Louise had to do was open her eyes, and then everything would be fine. She would slap Boo Boo's face, and jump out of the coffin, and they would all cry, and then laugh about what a terrible mistake had been made.

But instead, the boy band quietly made their back down the aisle, doing their best to remain inconspicuous, and Louise remained in the casket.

Once everyone in the church had seen Louise, they returned to their seats, the music started up, the lid to the coffin was closed and Brooks gestured to Bob, Big Bob, and Al. They each grabbed a handle and gently picked the coffin up. As there was only three of them, it was a little bit lopsided, until Teddy approached and took the last handle. Bob did not attempt to stop the tears from falling, and he brought his shaking hand up to his mouth. This wasn't supposed to be happening; he wasn't supposed to be carrying his baby's coffin. Sniffles from around him told him the other pallbearers were crying, too.

Slowly, they made their way down the aisle, following Reverend Brooks, the rest of the Belcher family behind him. As Linda, Tina, Gene, Gayle, and Gloria walked up the aisle, people took their hands and muttered words of comfort.

“She was an amazing little girl.”

“I don't know what to say.”

“It's just terrible. There are no words.”

The Belcher family graciously accepted the words as best they could and moved forward. Tina kept her eyes focused straight ahead, on the coffin that her father was helping to carry.

Once outside, the coffin was placed back in the carriage and some of the flowers that adorned the pews were placed alongside the casket.

The mourners climbed into their respective cars and began to follow the carriage, and the hearses to the cemetery. The ride there was even more silent, if such a thing were possible, and felt to Tina rather strained. The other mourners were still lining the streets, and she again focused on her knees.

* * *

When they had arrived at the cemetery, the four men removed the coffin from the carriage, and carried it over to the graveside, Bob crying and looking as though his heart was heavier than the Earth itself.

There were no chairs, for it was to be a short service, and Tina could see a large speaker a few feet behind the grave, and another wave of guilt washed over her; if they'd had a normal, up-to-date phone, then they could play the song. But all they had was an old phone that was probably around before the dinosaurs were, and so Tina couldn't play the final song. She didn't know why this upset her so; Mort was only too happy to help, and the song would still be played, so what did it matter?

Reverend Brooks stood at the head of the grave, next to the gravestone that had already been placed in the ground. It was made of polished pink marble, with pink marble bunny ears on the top, and had the words:

_'Louise Gloria Belcher_

_Beloved sister and daughter_

_23 rd November 2009 - 27th February 2019_

_Your presence we miss_

_Your memory we treasure_

_Loving you always_

_Forgetting you never_

_A little girl who brought the world together.'_ engraved neatly on it in black.

They stood around the open grave, the hole in the ground that was waiting to encase Louise forever. The Belchers were at the front, while everyone else stood behind, waiting silently.

Again, the priest waited for everyone to arrive, and when they were all ready and waiting, he spoke.

“We have gathered here to praise God and to witness to our faith as we celebrate the life of Louise Belcher. We come together in grief, acknowledging our human loss. May God grant us grace, that in pain we may find comfort, in sorrow hope, in death resurrection. Let us commend Louise to the mercy of God, our maker and redeemer. Silence is kept God our creator and redeemer; by Your power Christ conquered death and entered into glory. Confident of His victory and claiming His promises, we entrust Louise to Your mercy in the name of Jesus our Lord, who died and is alive and reigns with You, now and for ever. Amen.”

“Amen.”

“It is here, together, where we may intuit the meaning of Paul’s words when he affirms that neither life nor death can separate us from the love of God. So, I welcome you to this time out of ordinary time. I invite you to pause, to let it settle in that a precious life has passed from among us. We can use the gift of our worship and our memories to bring comfort and peace and joy and laughter to one another as we remember Louise and, perhaps, we will enjoy a “trace” of her presence as we share together.

“We now commit her body to the ground; earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust; in the sure and certain hope of the resurrection to eternal life,” said Reverend Brooks. More crying commenced as the song “Gone Too Soon” began to play and the coffin was lowered into the ground.

Tina took her mother and brother's hands, devastated, as she watched it happen, with Michael Jackson's heartbreaking vocals playing in the background; only now did she truly appreciate just how appropriate the lyrics were:

“ _Like a comet  
Blazing 'cross the evening sky  
Gone too soon_

_Like a rainbow  
Fading in the twinkling of an eye  
Gone too soon_

_Shiny and sparkly  
And splendidly bright  
Here one day  
Gone one night_

_Like the loss of sunlight  
On a cloudy afternoon  
Gone too soon.”_

The dirt was piled on top of the casket and the flowers in the shape of Louise's name was placed at the bottom of the headstone.

Bob was being supported by his father, both of them sobbing, and Al and Gloria were holding one another tightly. Gayle was clutching her locket in an iron grip, her eyes wide. Although everyone around her was crying, Tina was still dry-eyed, and she was overcome with self-hatred. What was wrong with her? Why couldn't cry? She didn't want Louise to think that she didn't care about her. She couldn't be the only person not crying, she just couldn't. You were supposed to cry at funerals, because then it meant that you cared. She cared; she cared so much. She loved Louise so much, so why couldn't she shed just one little tear?

“ _Like a castle  
Built upon a sandy beach  
Gone too soon_

_Like a perfect flower  
That is just beyond your reach  
Gone too soon_

_Born to amuse, to inspire, to delight  
Here one day  
Gone one night_

_Like a sunset  
Dying with the rising of the moon  
Gone too soon  
Gone too soon.”_

Tina held her breath, and dug her nails into her palms as hard as she could. Soon enough, a tear finally rolled down her cheek, but that was all she could manage. Forcing the tears was perhaps not the best option, or maybe not even the right one, but it was the only thing she could think to do.

While the song continued, the bouquets, wreaths, and other floral tributes were removed from the hearses, and placed on top of the grave. There were so many that they covered the entire grave; not a single patch of dirt could be seen. The tributes were overlaid, and spread out to the sides, a mass of roses, lilies, daisies, chrysanthemums, violets, gladiolus, hydrangeas, orchids, daffodils, carnations, among many others. It was impossible not to feel touched by this overwhelming display of love and support.

The sobbing mourners remained at the grave site even after the song had finished. “Support us, O Lord, all the day long of this troublous life, until the shadows lengthen and the evening comes, the busy world is hushed, the fever of life is over and our work is done. Then, Lord, in Your mercy grant us a safe lodging, a holy rest, and peace at the last; through Christ our Lord. Amen.”

“Amen,” muttered the crowd, and then they slowly began to make their way back to their cars to go to the Belcher home for the reception. Only the Belcher family remained standing there. They were never going to see Louise again. She was going to remain in the ground until the end of time, and none of them wanted to leave her there. Reverend Brooks approached them and eventually managed to get them to the hearse.

As they drove away, Tina turned around in her seat and stared at Louise's grave. Louise's grave, she thought, that's what she would have to say from now on. No longer would they be going to see Louise, they would be going to Louise's grave.

The people in the hearse were all silent as they drove back to the house and Gene suddenly started bawling.

“Gene?” Bob looked at his son worriedly. Gene didn't answer and Linda moved over and wrapped her arms around him, and Gene sobbed and sobbed until he was red in the face.

Bob didn't know what to say or do to make him feel better, because he felt like doing the same thing, as did everybody else in the car. All he could do was watch, feeling lost.

* * *

They were all still silent as they arrived at Ocean Avenue. Gene had calmed somewhat, and Linda was still holding him.

“Do you need to go to bed?” she asked him, but he didn't answer her, and continued leaning into her chest.

“Gene, do you wanna go to bed?” Tina asked quietly, and Gene shook his head after a moment.

The other attendees who had arrived before them were waiting respectfully outside of the apartment, and Bob led the quiet group inside and upstairs.

There were a few moments of silence while Teddy tried to get the music playing, but when it started, people began talking, as though they were programmed with the music.

Tina stood back, with Gene pressed to her side, and watched as the mourners began to eat and drink and talk; the people filled up the living room, the hallway, and the kitchen. Some of the flowers and the rest of the balloons from the church had been brought back and they were strategically placed around the house, giving a little bit of colour to the sombre event.

Every so often, someone would approach her and tell her how sorry they were, but Tina didn't hear them; her mind was back at the cemetery with her sister.

The adults were milling around, paper plates and glasses in hand, all of them talking quietly. Many of them would stop to look at one of the several photographs of Louise, their eyes full of sadness. The kids looked as if they didn't know what to do; Andy and Ollie were standing together, holding hands, and hovering uncomfortably near Jimmy Jr., who was standing by Zeke. They were all near the buffet tables, with the elder boys holding plates as if to give their hands something to do.

Regular-sized Rudy was standing by himself, not too far from the other kids. Tina could see the rest of the kids scattered about, but she didn't want to talk to them. Besides, there was barely any room to move, the apartment was so full of people. Nat approached her, manoeuvring her way through the tight space. She said nothing, and only hugged her, which was so full of warmth and emotion that Tina had to hug back.

“You guys need me for anything, you just call, okay?” Nat bent down, her eyes glistening, and Tina nodded. “I mean it; anything.” Nat hugged her again, before standing and wiping her eyes.

Tina could see the rest of her family dotted about the living-room, all except for her mother and Tina wondered where she was.

Bob was apparently thinking the same thing and he quietly slipped out of the room. He found Linda in the kitchen, surrounded by people, so he left her there and walked back down the hall.

Just as Bob squeezed back into the living-room, he heard Big Bob raise his voice slightly and he paused.

“I'd like everyone to raise their glasses,” and he raised his, “in memory of Louise Belcher, a little girl who.. should still be here with us right now. Perhaps everyone would say something about her?” he coaxed when everyone had toasted Louise.

“I remember how she was a bit of a girly girl at heart,” said Gretchen, reminiscing about Louise and her mission to rescue her Francine doll.

“I remember she was always so full of energy.”

“You never knew what she had hidden up her sleeve.”

“She loved to make people laugh.”

Bob stood near the doorway, listening to all the little stories about Louise. It was so sweet of everyone to share their memories, but he honestly didn't want to hear them. He just wanted to leave and walk and walk and walk until he was so tired he couldn't think.

Much as he tried to tune everyone out, he couldn't, and so he had to listen to everyone saying how wonderful and sweet Louise was.

 _'What's wrong with me?'_ he thought. _'Why don't I want to hear this?'_ It was a question which he couldn't answer, and so all he could do was stand where he was, looking straight ahead, refusing to meet anyone's gaze.

“Bob?” A voice broke into his thoughts, and Bob gave a slight shake, and looked over to see Koji and Yuki. Koji pulled him into a tight hug, which Bob didn't return. “Bob, we are so, so sorry,” said Koji sincerely, and Yuki nodded.

“She was such a good hearted little girl.” Yuki hugged him as well. “No matter what, she always did the right thing, and I loved that about her.”

“Thanks,” said Bob dazedly. Of course his precious baby was good hearted; of course she always did the right thing, she was Louise! Louise could do no wrong, that much he knew for sure.

Tina made her way toward the television and placed the disc into the DVD player. When people saw what she was doing, they gathered around the television. When the video started playing, the guests from the other room came in and started to watch.

The film was about ten minutes long; Tina hadn't realised that it was that long, and contained many clips of Louise and the Belcher family; birthdays, Christmases, Easter egg hunts, school performances, and outdoor bonfires. A touching clip was of two-year-old Louise sat on the sofa in between Gene and Tina; Tina was reading them a bedtime story, but she was having trouble pronouncing some of the words.

 _'Hush, sweet butterflies, not 'nother peep, it's time to find a place where you can go to sleep,'_ Tina read from the book that was propped open in her lap, while baby Louise grew bored and crawled over both her siblings, and the book.

The next clip was Louise's kindergarten Christmas pageant when she was five. She was playing a sheep, but as the children stumbled through their lines, Louise would giggle at them and she would constantly wave at her parents.

The next clip was of Louise, Gene, and Tina hunting for Easter eggs in the apartment, filmed about four or five years ago. This was before their parents decided to go crazy with their egg hunt competition. The three kids were clutching baskets and Louise was climbing down from the windowsill in the living-room, holding an egg triumphantly. She jumped to the floor and ran over to Tina, who was double-checking the corners of the room for missed eggs. Running up behind her sister, Louise sneakily took an egg from her basket and placed it in her own, putting it back when Linda, who was filming, reprimanded her, and Tina turned around and looked confused.

Next in the video was Louise, Gene, and Tina standing in front of a scenic overlook at Bog Harbour National Forest. They had gone there for a picnic (again, Tina couldn't remember how they had persuaded Bob to leave the restaurant), and Linda had thought that the view was so beautiful that she just had to film it and had coaxed her children into standing in front of the rock bench and the kids didn't look too impressed. Sometimes, like Louise, Tina could get a little bit irritated by the way her mother constantly pulled out her video camera and telling them where to stand while she filmed. The Louise on the screen had a slightly irritated look on her face, before she smiled indulgently, as did the Tina and Gene on the video.

She had once asked Linda why she did it and her mother had said that someday Tina would thank her for the memories she had created. She was right, Tina thought, drawing her knees up to her chest.

The next scene showed Bob and Linda standing with their children, resting on the boulders, and upon Linda's command, all of them smiled and waved at the camera.

Everyone in the room was silent as the video played and the tears soon began flowing again. Bob was sobbing; he was eternally grateful to Linda for capturing these memories on video, and eternally grateful to Tina for making the video. Bob looked at his eldest daughter – now his only daughter – who was sat cross-legged on the floor next to the sofa with Gene; she had done so much to make this happen. If it for her, Bob didn't think that they would have had a funeral or reception to attend. He had already decided to do something nice for all she had done, he just wasn't sure what, but he knew that it had to be a really big treat.

The video had ended with a clip of the kids at the beach that summer. Bob was lying on his back, dozing, and the three of them had just finished covering his body with sand, piling it up so that Bob's stomach resembled a small mountain. The kids laughed triumphantly and turned to look at the camera and that's where the video ended.

Applause sounded through the room as the video was praised. As the guests moved away from the television, where the video was now playing on a loop, Rudy approached Tina.

“Th-that was a nice video,” he said quietly.

“Thank you,” she replied just as quietly and she could see the tears pooling in the boy's eyes, but he walked away before she could say anything. She caught Jimmy Jr. looking at her, and again turned her gaze away. She didn't have the strength to deal with him right now.

The guests milled around for hours, even after all the food was gone, talking about Louise, looking at all of the photographs. Bob and Linda sat in front of the television, staring at the video, not taking their eyes off of it. Big Bob and Teddy flanked them, but the parents didn't acknowledge either of the men. Bob and Linda just sat there, looking at the television as if trying to bore a hole through it with just their sight.

Teddy and Mort stayed when all the guests had left a few hours later, cleaning up the house, putting away the tables and tablecloths, and Teddy made sure that his favourite family was going to be okay before leaving, regretfully, for his own home.

Now that everyone had gone, the music had stopped, the DVD was no longer playing, the Belchers just sat in silence, wondering what on Earth they were going to do now. An air of finality hung over them.

Gene sat on the floor, holding a framed photo of Louise, and Tina sat next to him, staring straight ahead at the bookcase.

* * *

A few hours later, Bob looked around him, at Gayle curled up on the sofa, and his father on the floor. He knew Linda's parents were in Gene's room, and he knew that Gene and Tina were asleep. He also knew that Linda had taken the remaining wine into their bedroom, and had drank until she fell asleep. The house was so quiet. Bob could no longer fight the urge and slipped out of the apartment.

Bob climbed into his car and drove and drove until he pulled up outside a red building with a blue marquee.

When he entered the Lucky Lizard, he found it full of people at least a decade younger than him, dancing to thumping pop music. The booths were full, the lights were dim, and that awful carpet was still there. Nonetheless, Bob walked over to the bar, and took a seat.

“Hey, Chief” greeted the bartender, and Bob was certain it was the same man who had served him and Linda the last time they came. Back when Louise was still alive. “What can I get ya?”

“Gimme a beer; I don't care what kind, just gimme alcohol,” said Bob, and the bartender obliged. He recognised Bob immediately; you see a man on TV every day for over a week, and their face was bound to stick in your mind. He noted that Bob still had his funeral clothes on, and the barman was a veteran, good at his job, and he knew from experience that Bob did not want conversation. So, he simply cracked open a bottle of Blue Moon and slid the glass across the counter.

Bob needed to get good and drunk; he had tried so hard to be strong for his family, but actually seeing his daughter get buried just made it all the more clear that he wasn't strong enough to handle the pain. As soon as Bob took his first gulp, he felt the pain and bad memories washing away like the tide; with each swallow, he forgot more and more of why he was there in the first place.

When he had finished, Bob downed his second beer in two quick gulps and he did the same to his next one, and his next one, and his next one...

Soon enough, he felt absolutely nothing, which was good, because that meant that he didn't have to deal with Louise's death. All he wanted more than anything was to make the pain go away, and the only thing that helped was beer, and lots of it.

A few hours later, Bob was very drunk indeed, but still he kept on drinking and drinking until the barman finally denied his request.

“Uh, sorry, Chief, I can't let ya have no more. We're closed,” he said. Luckily, Bob had never been an angry drunk, so he instead sloped dejectedly out of the door and over to his car. When he had finally decided which of the three locks was real, he correctly inserted his key after too many tries and drove home.

He knew it was a stupid and dangerous thing to do, but he just didn't care. Besides, he didn't hit anyone or anything, so it didn't matter in the end.

The darkened house was silent, and Bob took that to mean that everyone was still asleep. After figuring out which flight of stairs he was meant to climb, Bob staggered into the living-room and passed out on the chair.

* * *

The next morning, Bob woke up with a massive hangover, feeling as terrible as he looked. However, the pain in his head was nothing compared to the pain in his heart.

Looking around, the only evidence that a funeral reception had taken place the night before was the masses of flowers, balloons and photographs that were scattered around the house.

Despite his hangover, Bob still could feel the intense pain that his daughter's death had left, and he desperately wanted another drink.

Bob stumbled into the kitchen, clutching his head, and opened the fridge. To his disappointment, there was no wine anywhere in sight, and Bob didn't feel like going out and facing the world, so all he could do was wait. Bob turned and slumped against the fridge, before remembering that Linda always kept extra wine in the cupboard. Uncorking a bottle, he began to drink. At first, that familiar sensation of forgetting washed over him, but then he was struck by a thought. Louise was all alone. She was alone, in a coffin, in the ground. Clutching his stomach, Bob fell to his knees, and vomited, causing his father, Linda, and Tina to come in.

“Bob? Are you okay?” Big Bob knelt down, while a clearly hungover Linda stood in the doorway briefly, before her own weak stomach caused her to dash to the bathroom.

“Nothing, just – just went down the wrong way,” Bob choked, wiping his hand, and staggering to his feet. Forget the drink, he needed to go and see Louise.

“Whoa, where are you going?” Big Bob, holding out his arm as Bob made his way toward the door, ignoring the faint sounds of his wife throwing up.

“I can't stay here any longer; I need to go and see Louise.”

“No, no; you're hungover, so just sit for a while.”

“No!” Bob yelled, instantly grabbing his head. “No,” he repeated, quieter this time. “Louise, my baby, she's all alone, and I need to go and see her.”

“Louise is fine,” said Big Bob, guiding his son to the table. “You can go and see her later, I promise, but not until you're sober, okay?”

“... Fine,” Bob pouted, swaying slightly on his chair.

Linda came back into the room not long after, and the four of them were silent, not knowing what to say.

“Listen, you're all out of milk; I'm just gonna go and get some,” said Big Bob, pulling on his coat. Tina only nodded, and sat down at the table. After a few moments, Linda joined them, along with Gene, who was still holding the photograph of Louise he had taken to bed with him last night.

They sat there silently, for what seemed like an eternity, until Big Bob returned, clutching a bag filled with bread, eggs, milk, cheese, toilet rolls, and bin liners. Tucked under his arm was a newspaper. “I thought you'd want to see this,” he said, handing the paper to Bob. On the front page of the _Oceanside Times_ was a photo of Bob, Big Bob, Al, and Teddy carrying Louise's coffin out of the church, with the headline, _'Rest in peace, Louise'_.

' _Ten days after her tragic death, Louise Belcher was laid to rest after a funeral service in St. Peter's Cathedral._

_Looking exhausted and drawn, the Belcher family arrived at the church behind the horse-drawn Victorian carriage that held the body of their youngest child._

_Her parents, Bob and Linda, rode in a black limo with tinted windows, along with Bob's father, Linda's sister, and their parents. Brother Gene, 11, and sister Tina, 13, were also present._

_Hundreds of silent, weeping people lined streets in the cold March weather on Saturday to watch the tiny pink coffin pass, and mourn the child whose death saddened New Jersey. Policemen stood by and doffed their hats as the carriage went by, and some couldn't help shedding a tear._

_The carriage was drawn through the streets of the town by two white horses with pink feather plumes, and three hearses full of floral tributes from around the country brought up the rear._

_Emotional townsfolk filled St Peter's church for the service, with hundreds more listening outside on loudspeakers. Among the family, friends, and school teachers, many others came to pay their respects, including the hundreds of volunteers who tried valiantly to save her._

_Outside, the crowd remained; weeping, staring, mumbling responses as the service was relayed._

_The nine-year-old died on February 27 th from dehydration and hypothermia, when she became trapped in a well for five days, after being pushed by the teenage boy who had been bullying her._

_Logan Bush, 15, had approached Louise that evening, wanting to perform a painful wrestling move on her. He later claimed it was 'revenge' for when she had thrown a rotten cantaloupe, which had landed on him. Logan was already having counselling for anger issues, and had been picking on Louise for at least a year. He had lured the child from her home, and chased her through town, eventually cornering her, and threatening to do the wrestling move, back in October. Louise's older brother stepped in and took the 'punishment', but Logan was still mad at Louise. When he saw her at Wharf Park on the 22 nd of February, he wanted to do that wrestling move, but instead, he pushed her, and Louise fell into the uncovered, abandoned well. She was trapped under rubble, and volunteers descended upon the park, wanting to help. _

_At first, it was believed that it would only take a few hours to dig down to her. Rescuers were not too worried; Louise did not appear to be seriously injured, and the little girl was bossing them about. However, it took them five days to drill down more than 80 feet, and then dig across, where she was located. By the time they reached her, Louise had died._

_The story sent shock waves throughout New Jersey, and the rescue efforts were covered extensively. People were shocked and outraged over the bullying, and at the lengths Logan went to to try and hurt the child._

_Outside the packed church, one mother clung tightly to her 3-year-old son._

_"It was heartbreaking – but the pain will ease at some point, and Louise will never be forgotten,' Sharon Kingsley said._

_She said the death of Louise has made her far more concerned about her own child, Reece. "I was always worried about bullies; what parent isn't? But now I'm afraid for him," she said._

_Inside the church, a touching eulogy was performed by Louise's father, in which he referred to Louise as a 'spark plug', and remembered her as a little girl who loved animals, and talked of her strong sense of righteousness, along with her love for her family. He asked the congregation to remember Louise, and then the mourners approached the coffin one at a time to say their goodbyes._

_After everyone had paid their respects, acclaimed pop group Boyz 4 Now, Louise's favourite band, came up to the coffin and paid their respects. The band are believed to have made a sizeable anonymous donation to help cover funeral costs, and they remained at the casket for several minutes, paying tribute to one of their biggest fans._

“ _It was very moving,” revealed an unnamed source. “I always thought they were just a typical, attention seeking boy band, but after witnessing what they did, it just restores your faith in humanity a bit, you know?”_

_The group did not do anything to draw attention to themselves, but instead stood quietly with the other mourners, throughout the service._

_They then attended the burial service, but did not attend the reception, which was held at Louise's home._

_As the town mourns the loss of the little girl, online tributes have flooded in from around the world.'_

Bob put down the newspaper.

“How did they find out?” he asked no-one in particular.

“Bob, everyone was watching it; don't you remember?” asked Big Bob, glancing at the paper.

“Well, yeah, but... Are they even allowed to publish this without asking us?”

“It's a free country, son; they can print what they want,” sighed Big Bob.

“I suppose,” muttered Bob. All he could think about was having a drink. Nothing appealed to him more than a beer (or six) at that moment.

Big Bob patted him on the back, and then began to make breakfast. Bob's stomach churned at the smell of eggs, and even toast; he would sure he wouldn't even be able to drink water.

“How do you want your eggs, Tina?” asked Big Bob.

“Sorry, I'm not hungry,” the girl whispered, before leaving the room. For once, Gene did not follow her; instead he remained at the table, the picture of Louise clutched to his chest.

Back in her bedroom, she opened up the laptop and inserted the tribute DVD she had made and began to watch it. When it was finished, she watched it again. There was an air of finality to it now, she thought, watching herself, Gene, and Louise run around on the screen.

She didn't watch it again when it was finished; instead she logged onto her Facebook page; many of her friends had written tributes to Louise on their profiles. After reading through them, the restless girl made her way back out of her room.

She headed to the now empty kitchen, and opened the fridge. Inside was all the leftover food from yesterday. Not even bothering to get a plate, Tina grabbed the pizza fingers by the handful, and began eating them with no expression. She wasn't even hungry; she just needed to do something. Only when they had all gone, did she stop to take a breath, before moving on to the potato wedges, and then the cakes. She didn't feel any better when she had finished, and so she went into the living-room, where her family were, sitting silently. Tina couldn't think what they were supposed to do now. Were they supposed to just go about their lives, even though there was a huge hole in it? Sitting and doing nothing didn't seem right, nor did going about their normal routine. How could they sit, and laugh, and joke, when Louise was no longer with them? How were they expected to go back to work, and be able to function? Speaking of..

“Dad? When are we gonna open up the restaurant?” she asked.

“I don't know, Tina,” he answered numbly. “I don't feel like it, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Bob, what are you gonna do about money?” asked Big Bob. “You've got enough savings to keep you afloat?”

“I don't know,” Bob repeated. “All I know is, I'm not opening up the restaurant.” At this point, he didn't care if he couldn't pay the rent, he didn't care if he lost the diner; he couldn't see himself ever stepping behind the grill ever again. He just wanted to curl up, and either die or cry.

* * *

As soon as he could get away, Bob drove to back to the Lucky Lizard, craving alcohol. He knew there was wine at home, but there was more variety here. Plus, he needed to get away, and go somewhere he couldn't think, because he couldn't bear to think about Louise, and at home he was surrounded by reminders of her.

He remained in the bar for hours on end, drinking continuously, drowning his sorrows, until the barman had to throw him out once midnight came.

This time, however, he did not go home; forgoing his car, he stumbled on foot to the cemetery, his drunkenness meaning that he didn't register the long walk. His mind was focused on one thing, and one thing only; his daughter. She was all by herself; she was probably scared and confused, and he had to comfort her. He was her dad, that's what dads do.

Despite the dim lampposts, he soon found Louise's grave; the masses of flowers made it very easy. Bob blinked, a bit of awareness shining through. He could see bouquets, wreaths, teddies, letters, photos, piled up so high that all could be seen of her headstone were the bunny ears. He sank to the ground at the foot of the grave.

“Hey, Louise,” he said quietly. “I had to come by and see you, to make sure you're okay. Are you?” He waited for a moment, almost expecting a reply. “I hope you're not afraid; I don't know what I'd do if you were,” he admitted helplessly. “I can't do anything to help,” he said miserably, lowering his head. “I don't know how you're doing, but we're, uh, we're all a wreck. I need you here; we need you here. Can't you come back? Can't you talk to the big guy upstairs? You can talk anyone into anything, so if anyone can do this, it's you.” Bob paused, staring at the flowers. “We miss you so much, Louise. So much. I don't see how anything can get better after this. I can't deal with any of this. It should be me in there, not you. I'd give anything to swap places. Can you hear me? If you can, send me some kind of sign, please. Anything.” Bob was not, and had never been religious. He and his family never really went to church; Linda had used to as a child, but she'd long stopped going before they had met. She had told him she'd never really cared for it.

Bob didn't know what was up there; he supposed it was nice to believe, but he'd never really given any thought to it.

Now, though, he desperately hoped there was a heaven, because the alternative was too horrible to think about. He much preferred to think that Louise was happy somewhere.

He waited and waited for some kind of sign; he didn't know what – a beam of light, a perfectly timed gust of wind, a white feather, anything. Surely Louise could see how much they were suffering? Surely, she would want to reassure them that she was okay? “Give me a sign,” Bob repeated, looking around him.

Again, he waited, but there came nothing. It was just him, sat alone in a graveyard, in the middle of the night. Bob pulled on his hair frustratedly, before standing with shaky legs. “I love you, Louise,” he whispered. “I'll come back tomorrow,” he promised, giving the headstone one last, sad look, before leaving.

As he had done previously, Bob managed to make his way home, his car and body miraculously intact and collapsed on the sofa.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter done. I did my best to make the church scenes respectful, and I sincerely apologise if I have gotten anything wrong.  
> I also apologise for the delay; although my symptoms have improved, I still get really fatigued from time to time. So I've decided, for the time being, to update every other Monday from now on.  
> What did you think? I'd love to know!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, all, I'm back with the next chapter. I hope you enjoy reading.

Learning to Live Without You

Chapter 7

Turning over the eggs, Tina glanced at the clock; almost 7am. Soon, she would have to wake Gene. While the eggs continued to cook, Tina stepped over to the other side of the counter, moving an empty butter wrapper, and began making sandwiches. It was just part of her routine now. She couldn't help from eating a few slices of cheese, as she packed hers and Gene's lunches, and another glance at the eggs told her that there was time enough to leave and wake Gene.

“Gene?” she gently knocked on the open door to her room. “Gene? Time to get up. Breakfast will be ready soon.” She saw him roll onto his back, and open his eyes, and she lingered a moment longer. Gene still slept in her bed; Tina thought that he didn't want to be alone, and she couldn't blame him. It was nice to have some comfort. “Gene? Come on, Gene, it's breakfast time.” He stretched and sat up, and Tina stepped back to give him some privacy to dress.

A burning smell reached her nose, and Tina ran back into the kitchen. “Crap! The eggs!” Luckily, they weren't too burnt, and Tina was able to salvage them. Putting some toast in the toaster, she resumed packing the lunches as Gene entered. She placed a plate of slightly overcooked eggs and slightly underdone toast in front of him, and left the kitchen once again.

Doing her best to keep quiet, Tina slowly opened the door to her parents' bedroom. They were both in bed, not asleep, but had passed out drunk late last night. At least, Tina thought they had passed out; they'd both been drinking almost constantly lately.

Tina observed the many, many empty wine bottles littering the floor, the bed, the dresser. It worried her; it had been nine days since they had buried Louise, nine days since Bob and Linda just couldn't deal with it any more. Tina had lost count of how many bottles they had drank between them; they did nothing else.

Now that she knew they were okay, Tina went back into the kitchen, and saw that Gene had finished his breakfast, putting his empty plate in the sink. “Gene, why don't you go and watch cartoons, until it's time to leave?” Tina suggested, and Gene only left the room. He still hadn't uttered a word, and Tina was now really worried, but she didn't know what to do. Last Friday, Mr Frond had called her into his office to ask how both she and Gene were doing. Put on the spot, terrified of saying the wrong thing, groaning for an uncomfortably long period of time, Tina had lied and said that Gene was talking, but only at home. To her relief, Mr Frond had believed her.

While Gene watched the cartoons, Tina took the opportunity to try and do a little cleaning. It seemed that no matter how often she washed the dishes, they just kept piling up, as if they were multiplying. Nevertheless, she began to wash them, kicking an empty Coke can aside, doing her best to make them as clean as she could while rationing the dish soap.

When she'd finished, Tina looked around the kitchen, while waiting for them to dry. The recycling and the regular bin were both full, so there was nowhere she could put the empty boxes, and cardboard containers; she just had to stack them on the side, hoping they wouldn't fall. She cleaned the sides, but the dirt and grime seemed glued on, and the dishcloth got dirty easily.

One thing she absolutely refused to touch were the dozens of condolence cards and packages piled up next to the little television. She could barely bring herself to even look at them.

Tina supposed the rest of the cleaning could wait until later, and instead turned to the washing machine, sighing in dismay when she realised that she had forgotten to turn it on last night, and their dirty clothes were still lying in there. Bending down, Tina turned the knob and pressed a button, but nothing happened, and she frowned.

Tina made her way back down the hall, and into the living-room. “Gene? You'd better go and brush your teeth,” she said, and Gene rose from the sofa, and left the room. She remained in the doorway for a moment, resolutely refusing to look at the two fat condolence books that lay on the coffee table. No one had been able to look at those yet, either.

She was just about to move when the burger phone rang, as it had been doing a lot lately, and she answered it. “Hello?”

“ _Hello, this is Oliver Jenkins; I'm a reporter for the_ Bog Harbour Express _. Am I speaking to Linda Belcher?”_

“No.”

“ _Oh, okay. Are you her daughter? Could I speak to you, maybe ask you a few questions?”_

Tina only put the phone down. Honestly, she didn't even know why she kept it plugged in; nobody else but reporters and journalists constantly called them. When were they going to get the message that she didn't want to talk? None of them wanted to talk.

When Gene was ready, Tina handed him his backpack, and ushered him to the stairs. Before they left, Tina decided to check on their parents one last time. “Mom? Dad? Are you guys okay?” she whispered, and Linda shifted.

“Mom? I can't make the washing machine work? Can you do it?” She waited, but got no answer. “Mom? Mom? Mom, can you do the -?”

“I'll do it,” Linda slurred, waving a hand lazily.

“Okay,” Tina whispered. “Bye, Mom. Bye, Dad. Love you.”

Linda mumbled something that might have been 'love you,' and Tina closed the door, and headed off to school with Gene. She hoped that Linda wouldn't wash any of Louise's clothes; she would have to put them away somewhere when she got home. There was no time to do it now.

Their lunch bags were rather light, as Tina had decided to ration their food, just a little bit. She wasn't _too_ worried about food; they still had plenty of the dishes they had been sent the previous week, and a weeping Teddy had dropped off a hamper yesterday, which she was grateful for.

The only problem was, in the nicest way, Gene; he had been comfort eating. A lot. (So had she, if she was honest.) And Bob and Linda had been drunk- and comfort- eating, so the snacks never seemed to last.

What nobody knew was that Tina had been hoarding food, hidden at the back of her wardrobe; cookies, apples, cans of tuna fish, potato chips, oranges, and more. That way, if they ran out, she had back-ups.

* * *

Cynthia, Tom, and Logan were sat at the table, silently eating their breakfast. Logan had his head down, looking down at his phone, while Cynthia tapped away on the laptop, hitting the keys with a little more force than was needed.

Logan hadn't been back to school since his assault; he absolutely refused, and Cynthia no longer fought with him about it.

As usual, Tom kept quiet, pretending to be absorbed in his phone, while drinking his coffee. The television was on, but not turned to the news, as none of them wanted to see something they weren't prepared for.

“Cynthia? What's the matter?” Both Tom and Logan had become aware that Cynthia had stopped typing, and was staring at the screen. She merely turned the laptop around to face them. They watched in horror as the security camera showed a small group of people wearing hoodies vandalising their home once again, throwing water balloons, spray-painting – obscenities no doubt – and smearing more dog excrement over their porch.

“I don't want to go check out the damage yet,” she said, facing the laptop back to her. “What do we do?”

“What can we do, though?” asked Tom honestly. “Weren't you going to get that harassment thing?”

“Oh, I tried that; they said that as I don't know who's doing the harassing, I can't get the order. I can't exactly get it placed on the entire town,” she said bitterly. “I mean, those women that harassed me at the store, they were only fined! I mean, what good is a fine?”

“Well, then, I don't know what else there is to do,” Tom sighed. “Unless you wanna hire people to watch the house 24/7.”

“I've been thinking about it, and I really think the only thing to do is move,” said Cynthia, and Tom almost choked on his coffee.

“What? Move?”

“Well, what else do you suggest we do?” she snapped. “The vandals aren't going to stop, and neither are the people who insult us whenever we leave the house!”

“I'm not sure that's a good idea.”

“What do you know?! You don't get insulted and assaulted every time you go out! You don't get nasty messages, and threatening letters and phone calls! This is just a walk in the park to you, isn't it?”

“How can you say that?” He stared at her, hurt. “It hasn't been easy for me, either! I've had to deal with patients cancelling appointments, and giving me filthy looks, and asking when I'm going to hand my _'murdering'_ son in to the police!” he hissed, keeping his voice down, for Logan had resumed staring at his phone.

“Then, we should definitely move; it's for our safety. We can afford it, so what's the problem?”

“The problem is this'll all blow over soon. This is our home, Cynthia; we've been here more than twenty years!”

“It won't blow over,” Cynthia shook her head. “Have you seen the size of this town? Everyone knows everyone, and people aren't gonna forget this! I have to order everything online, Logan has to do his school online, and again, we get threatening letters every day! You've read some of them; they're absolutely disgusting! No, a fresh start is what we need.”

Logan lowered his head even further, focusing on his phone.

“You don't think the same thing will happen, no matter where we go?” asked Tom. “You saw all those cameras when they were trying to get her out. I wouldn't be surprised if everyone in America knows who she is!”

“Not everyone knows who Louise Belcher is!” Cynthia barely refrained from shouting. “We can find somewhere new to live. Florida, maybe.”

“I can't afford to move us to Florida!” cried Tom. “God, what next? Dyeing our hair, changing our names?”

“To protect ourselves, yes; if it comes to that,” said Cynthia sternly. “Well, we'll find somewhere else, then. You'd like that, right, Logan?” she turned to her son, and Logan quickly looked up from where he was watching Louise's tiny coffin being slowly driven through the streets, and turned the screen off.

“What?”

“We're considering moving away; it's a good idea, right?”

“Yeah,” he said instantly. “We need to be able to live in peace. We can't do that here.”

“Two against one, so we win,” said Cynthia to Tom.

“All right; I'll think about it,” he promised. “Now, I gotta head off to work,” he downed the rest of his coffee, and stood up. “I honestly don't know what to do about the vandalism,” he said. “Maybe in time, they'll stop. That's all I can say.”

“Right. Bye, then.”

When he had left, she turned to Logan. “You start thinking about what states to move to; I really think getting out of this place will do us a world of good.”

“Okay.”

“After you do your school work,” she reminded him.

“Ugh, fine,” he sighed. “Are you gonna look, too?”

“Yes, I will. But first, I have to get someone out to clean up the house. I can't do it myself any more. Then,” her face fell slightly. “I have to print out all those horrible messages people have sent us; they'll come in handy.” Logan nodded; neither he nor Cynthia had been on Facebook, or any of their social media accounts, for almost two weeks, due to the vitriol that filled their inboxes and notifications. “And then I have to try and see if I can recognise anyone who was on the camera. But we'll get through this; you'll see.”

Logan only nodded, and made his way upstairs, as Cynthia resumed typing.

Sitting at his desk, Logan opened his state-of-the-art laptop. But he didn't do his school work; instead, he opened up his Facebook page. He knew it was a stupid idea, but he couldn't help himself. Logan skimmed through his messages, but didn't delete them, as Cynthia had told him not to. They needed them for evidence, she said.

The Seymour's Bay Channel 6 News Facebook page had a video of Louise's funeral, and he clicked on the comments. As he read through them, he saw that a lot of them were about him, and his jaw dropped slightly; he'd never known a group of people to hate one person so much. He could feel the sheer hatred coming through the screen. It didn't feel good, getting these messages. It scared him a little bit; if someone wanted to hurt him, it would be only too easy for them. Luckily, he had a baseball bat, so at least he had some kind of defence, and he only hoped it would be enough.

Logan closed the laptop, and rested his chin in his hand. He didn't feel like doing school work, or looking for a new home.

He'd been so certain that Louise would have survived. She would have fought to the very end, with everything she had, to live, just to spite him. But what was worse; her living, or her dying? If she had lived, she'd still be annoying him, but she'd died, so now the world hated him. If she had lived, then that meant she could spend every waking moment irritating him, because of course she would have.

But now that she was dead, he was the target of online and real-life abuse, which she must have known would happen, right? It wasn't his fault that she died, right? The fall didn't kill her, the having no water killed her, and he wasn't responsible for that. He didn't personally tell them not to give her any water, so why was he being blamed? It wasn't like he'd pushed her from a rooftop building. He given her a little (okay, a hard) shove, and she'd not hurt herself during the fall, as far as he knew. What could he have done? He didn't know she was going to be buried in rubble, he didn't know it was going to take them so long to get to her, and he didn't know she was going to die.

Logan doubted that another public apology would do any good; people wouldn't listen. The only thing that he could do in order to ensure his safety was move.

Sighing, he opened his laptop once again, and began looking for a new home in a new state.

* * *

The fourth-grade class at Wagstaff were quiet as classes began. Only they weren't going to be doing lessons. The tables were all pushed together, with the kids sat around the outside. In the middle of the tables was a large scrapbook, the pages blank. Surrounding the book were several different types of craft supplies. There was lace, ribbon, felt, beads, jewels, stickers, among many other things.

As per Frond's suggestion, many of them had photos of Louise. There weren't very many; she had rarely socialised, be it in or out of school. Rudy had a few; some from his birthday party spoon puppet show, and some from when he spent Thanksgiving at her house. That was after that crazy Turkey Trot fiasco. Relieved that they were all alive, Linda had taken a few photos, and after dinner, the kids had had a little spaghetti sauce fight. There were no photos of just the two of them, but they were nice pictures, all the same.

Millie, of course, had lots of photos, drawings, and paintings of Louise, which would be able to fill several pages of the book. She was still so very distraught over Louise's death, and had worn a black armband every day since the funeral in remembrance.

“There doesn't have to be any kind of order,” said Mr Frond. “Some of you can start writing your stories and memories, and others can make decorations with the craft stuff. Any way you want to do it is fine.”

Rudy kept quiet, as he worked on cutting out bunny ears from pink felt, and little hearts from red felt. Every student would get two pages each, and Rudy decided that his first page would be his memories of Louise, and second would be a few pictures, and the little crafts he had made.

Over the past week, he'd found himself often looking over at Louise's empty chair. He couldn't believe that she was never going to sit there again. She would never shoot spit balls at the backs of students' heads, nor would she ever sneakily pass Burobu cards, or annoy Miss LaBonz.

She would never force him to watch her favourite Hawk and Chick movies again. He kind of liked them; they weren't his favourite kind of movie (although he never would have told her that), but they were entertaining enough.

He just couldn't believe he was never going to see her again. “While we're working, does anyone have any ideas for raising money for the memorial garden?” asked Frond from his chair at the front of the room. “No bad ideas; everything will be considered.”

“Um, we could have a bake sale?” suggested Harley.

“Bake sale, okay,” Frond wrote it down on the board. “That's a good idea; we could advertise it online, and everyone could bring something. Bake sales are always a good idea. Any other ideas?”

“It's not an idea, but, um, for the bake sale, we could use bunny shaped cookie cutters?” Rudy suggested, and Frond nodded.

“That's a good idea.”

“Yeah,” said Harley. “We could make them pink, and they can be Louise Cookies.”

Frond nodded again, and wrote it down. Bunny shaped cookie cutters would be easy enough to find, and they would add a personal touch to the bake sale.

“How much will it cost?” Abby thrust her hand into the air. “Maybe we should know how much it costs, so we know how much to raise.”

“Well, we would need to find what to put in. So far, we've got a bench, possibly with a plaque on it; flowers, and a little vegetable patch. The whole thing will cost us a couple of thousand dollars, so any ideas will help.”

“Okay, so maybe a lip syncing competition? Like, we could get into small groups, and charge, like, five dollars to enter, and sell tickets to the audience.”

“Great, another good idea,” Frond wrote it down.

Soon, they had a plethora of suggestions, including a sing-a-thon, a memorial dinner, trivia night, a scavenger hunt, a colour run, among many others.

“How long before it's ready?” asked Rudy.

“It depends on how fast we raise the money,” said Frond honestly. “It will take several months, maybe a year; it's still got to be paid for and built. But it will get done.”

“Will Gene and Tina like the garden?” Harley asked, sticking a few rabbit stickers on her paper.

“They were okay with it, and so are her parents.”

Harley nodded, and one by one, the kids quietened down, and continued their work.

As Rudy cut and pasted, he began to wonder. Why did Louise wear her bunny ears? Although he'd always been mildly curious, he had never asked her; it just didn't seem to be that big a deal, that he had to know. Honestly, when he had first met her, he'd thought she had just felt like wearing that hat, but then she wore it the next day, and the next day, and the next day...

It didn't take a genius to figure out that she liked the hat, but now Rudy was struck with this sudden, deep desire to know _why._

“Hey, Harley?” he asked, and she looked up at him. “Do you know why Louise wore her bunny ears?”

“Uh, no,” she admitted. “I always wondered, but I was always too afraid to ask; I was scared of her.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean,” Rudy chuckled lightly. “Louise could be pretty scary.”

“I do remember she used to wear a pink beanie, though,” said Harley. “I remember because she didn't used to wear it all the time; this was when we were in kindergarten.”

“Wow, so you saw her bare head?” Rudy didn't know why he was suddenly so fascinated by it. Maybe because now he would never get the chance to ask Louise herself.

“Yeah; it was normal,” Harley. “I mean, it looked normal. I didn't see anything wrong with it.”

“I remember that, too,” Abby chimed in. “She wore the pink beanie a lot, but not all the time, but she was the only one in class who wouldn't let me braid her hair.” To be fair, at the time, Abby had only just learnt how, and her braids were a mess, to put it nicely. Poor Bethany had ended up with a knot so big the teacher had had to cut off some of her hair.

“So, she just came in one day, and had the bunny ears?” Rudy asked, and the girls nodded.

“Yeah, and that's when she started freaking out when anyone tried to touch it.”

Rudy nodded thoughtfully. Now, he was really curious to know why. But he assumed that if Louise never told anyone why she wore her bunny ears, then there must be a pretty good reason, and even now, he didn't feel like he had the right to pry.

Maybe, one day in the future, he would be able to ask Gene or Tina, but for now, he decided that he didn't need to know.

“Um, Mr Frond?” Tina, followed by Gene, entered his office at break-time. “I – I have something to ask.”

“Sure, what is it, Tina?” Frond laid down the therapy doll he was making, Grievin' Steven, and looked at them. Tina hesitated, and looked side to side awkwardly.

“I don't know how to say it,” she said.

“It's all right; take your time,” he waited patiently. Tina ducked her head in shame, her face turning red. What was she supposed to say? _'I haven't cried over my dead sister yet.'_ She was afraid that Mr Frond would think she didn't love Louise. What if he thought there was something really wrong with her, like she was heartless? What if she had to go away somewhere? She couldn't let that happen; she couldn't leave Gene on his own.

“I – I just wanted to say thanks for helping me and Gene,” she said, lifting her head slightly, her face still red.

“You're welcome. It's no problem at all; I'm here to help,” Frond couldn't even begin to imagine what they were going through. He wasn't sure whether they were getting outside help, but he wanted to be there for them as much as he could. “If any of you ever need to talk, my office is always open.”

“Okay, thanks. Well, we should get going now,” Tina said, before turning, and leaving the room.

* * *

After school, they came upon Linda in the kitchen, her head resting on the table, her arms stretched out in front of her. An empty wine bottle resided next to her head. Tina looked around, but couldn't see her father.

“Go watch TV,” she said to Gene, and her brother obediently headed off to the living-room to do so. “Mom?” Tina hesitantly approached her mother. “Mom, Gene still isn't talking. Mom?”

Linda slowly lifted her head off the table. Her unwashed hair hung limply, and her bloodshot eyes were slightly unfocused. 

“Wha-?” Tina gagged as the stench of alcohol overcame her.

“Gene – he hasn't spoken since.. Louise left. I don't know what to do,” she admitted.

“He hasn't been talkin',” slurred Linda.

“I know. Please help me.”

“I'll help you when I finish this bottle,” Linda held up her empty hand. “Oops.” She staggered over to the cupboard and pulled out a fresh bottle. “Ah, there it is,” and she began drinking, stumbling out of the kitchen, leaving Tina alone.

She sat down at the table, anxiously playing with her fingers. She wondered if it would do any good hiding the wine, or would that just encourage her parents to go out and buy more?

A quick glance over at the washing machine told her that Linda hadn't done what she said she would, and that meant their bath towels were still dirty. Neither Bob nor Linda had done any cleaning today, as well, which meant that Tina was going to have to do it again. How did the house get so dirty when all her parents did was drink?

Her fingers slightly sore, she began tapping a rhythm-less tune on the table, repeatedly looking around at the messy kitchen. Her breath quickened and she bunched her fists in her hair, squeezing her eyes shut.

She was still like that a few hours later, when the doorbell rang. Tina stood and smoothed down her hair, before she opened it to Big Bob.

“Hey,” he said quietly, pulling her into a stiff hug. “Are you ready to go?”

“Go where?”

“To bereavement counselling; I booked you in for a family session. Don't you remember?” he asked, and Tina shook her head. “Okay. Well, I think it will benefit you all.”

“Okay,” was all she said, really not wanting to go at all. She didn't want to go and sit with a group of strangers and talk about her baby sister. She didn't want to have to explain why her parents were acting weird, or why her brother was mute. And she certainly didn't want to get into a car with her parents behind the wheel.

“Do you wanna grab a jacket, or go as you are?” he asked, and Tina looked down at the floor.

“Uhhhh,” she groaned. She didn't want to ride with her parents; even if they weren't drunk right now, Tina knew they were too upset to drive properly.

“It's all right,” Big Bob assured her, and she looked back up. “There's enough room in my car for all of you.”

“Oh.” Tina only grabbed her jacket, and went to get Gene, and soon all of them were in the car, with Tina feeling more and more apprehensive every passing moment.

Big Bob didn't join them for counselling, but he promised to pick them up.

The session was being held inside the local hospital; not Ocean City Memorial Hospital, which is where Louise would have been treated, had she survived. It was a smaller hospital; a fancier version of a GP, really.

“Welcome,” the counsellor smiled kindly. “Please, take a seat,” and the Belchers did so. Tina was glad that Bob and Linda had sobered up a bit, and were now mentally coherent.

There were three or four other families sat in a circle; Tina didn't care enough to check who was related to who; she just sat down, staring at the floor.

Tina didn't know about the rest of her family, but she hardly paid attention throughout the entire session. She just felt too sick. She glanced up once at her parents; one look at their pallid faces and their baggy eyes was enough, and she spent the rest of the session staring at the wall ahead of her.

She heard the counsellor mention things, like the feelings of helplessness “will pass,” and to “take baby steps,” but she didn't see how any of this would help. After all, Louise was still dead, and that was never going to change. All the counselling in the world couldn't bring her back, and that was all Tina wanted.

She was sure the counsellor gave them something to work on, before their next session; a small, easily achievable goal – writing down their feelings, perhaps, or keeping a schedule for a day. She couldn't seem to focus on what he was saying, and before she knew it, she was outside, with Big Bob approaching her.

“How did it go?” he asked quietly, and she shrugged.

“I didn't like it,” said Linda, a childish undertone to her voice. “He kept sayin' things about movin' forward and copin'.”

“I think you should carry on with it,” said Big Bob gently, “just give it a chance.”

“I don't wanna do that,” muttered Bob.

“Well, think about it? Please?” Big Bob got a half-hearted shrug in response, and he supposed that that was good enough for the time being. “All right, then. Come on, get in the car; I'll take you home.”

Once outside their apartment, Big Bob hugged his family, before they went upstairs. When he got to Tina, he leaned down to her. “Listen,” he said. “If you need me for anything, anything at all, just call me. Okay? It doesn't matter what it is; even if you just wanna talk at three in the morning, then you can. If you want me to come round, I will, night or day. Okay, sweetheart?”

“Yes, Pop-pop,” said Tina.

“Promise you'll call if you need it?”

“Uhhh, I promise,” Tina crossed her fingers behind her back.

“See you later, Gene,” he embraced his grandson tightly, though he might as well have hugged a rag doll. “That goes for you, too. If you need me, just call.”

The Belcher siblings watched him drive away, and Tina forced herself to wave back at him. She knew that, no matter what, she would never call. She couldn't. She didn't want her parents to be sent away.

Fighting an urge to pull on her hair again, Tina and Gene went back upstairs.

Bob was in the living-room, the photo album in his lap. He was staring down at the pictures, his face the picture of grief, and Linda was curled up in a ball on the sofa, hugging herself.

“Dad?” Tina stepped into the living-room. “It's Tuesday tomorrow.”

“Tuesday,” Bob repeated, not taking his eyes off of a photo of Louise.

“M-maybe we should go to the.. grocery store? Tomorrow?” she suggested, wondering why her voice quivered slightly.

“Why?”

“To buy food?”

Bob only shook his head.

“No. No. I don't want to.”

“But... we should...” she tailed off.

“I don't care,” muttered Bob. “I don't care about anything,” and Tina could only stare at him. She understood; she didn't care about anything any more either; everything just seemed so pointless now. But she wanted her parents to do _something;_ she wasn't sure how much longer she could do it all herself.

Tina managed all of thirty minutes inside the apartment. She heard the tell-tale clink of a wine bottle, and her stomach churned.

“I have to go,” she went into the hallway, and grabbed her jacket. “Gene?” she poked her head into the living-room, “are you coming?”

Her brother wordlessly rose, and followed her, grabbing his own jacket. Tina knew her parents wouldn't miss them, and she guided Gene out of the door.

It was a little while before they arrived the cemetery, and it was still light enough that they could find Louise's grave easily, and they sat down at the foot. A lot of the bouquets had died, but there were plenty of fresh ones left, some of them looking like they had been left there recently. Tina felt bad that they didn't bring anything for her. “Wow, there's so much,” she realised. “I never noticed all these before,” she gestured past the flowers, to other little tributes that had been left. Someone had placed a little china rabbit ornament next to the headstone, and there were some small, framed photos of Louise resting on top of the bouquets. Up by the headstone were a few handwritten letters, weighted down by little stones. “We should have brought some flowers, shouldn't we?” she asked, but, of course, got no answer from Gene. “Next time we come, we will,” she decided. She looked over at Gene, and saw that he was staring at what could be seen of Louise's headstone.

Tina reached out and gently touched a bouquet. It was sweet that all of these strangers cared about her sister; they spent their own money to bring her flowers. “Hi, Louise,” she said quietly. “Sorry we haven't been to see you; things have been.. difficult. Are you mad at us? Please don't be. We didn't bring flowers or anything, and I'm sorry about that, too. I hope you like these flowers... I don't know what to do,” she admitted. “Nothing feels right any more, and we all just miss you.” Even now, she still couldn't cry; Tina hoped that moment would come soon. Maybe once she cried, she would feel a bit more normal. She looked back over at Gene, and saw that he was still staring at the grave, his eyes fixed on the marble bunny ears. “Come on,” she took his hand, “let's go. Bye, Louise,” she turned back to the headstone. “We love you. We'll bring you flowers next time.”

When they arrived back at the apartment, both Bob and Linda had passed out once again. Well, Bob looked like he was asleep; in the chair, his head hanging back, and his mouth open, the photo album in his slack hand. But Linda had definitely passed out; there was vomit all over the floor, and she was face down on the sofa, an empty wine bottle lying on its' side on the dirty carpet. Tina held her breath as she cleaned it up, doing her best not to look at the mess. She couldn't find any cleaning products, and so she sprayed some of Linda's room freshener on the damp patch, before disposing of the bag of stinking, wadded up tissues. Well, she tried to; she couldn't squeeze it into the bin, and they were out of bin liners, so she just had to awkwardly leave it on top.

After thoroughly washing her hands, she found Gene in her bedroom. She honestly welcomed it; she didn't want to be alone, and he didn't either. He was sat on the end of her bed, staring at his knees. “Gene?” Tina sat down next to him. “Gene, please talk to me,” she pleaded. “Please, just speak.” She felt so alone, and frightened; if Gene would just say one word, then she would know that he was going to be okay. That would be one weight off her chest. Teachers were starting to ask questions; if Gene didn't start talking soon, what would happen? She wouldn't be able to cope without him; she felt like he was all she had left.

Tina began to groan, not her usual sound; this groan came from deep within, from her heart. “Gene, I can't lose you, too,” she begged, her voice husky.

Gene blinked slowly, and looked over at her, like he was properly seeing her for the first time.

“Tina?” he said hoarsely. Tina's jaw dropped, and she froze, her eyes wide. “I'm sorry, Tina.”

“It's okay,” she gasped. She threw her arms around him, holding him tighter as he cried.

Tina still didn't cry, but she rocked her little brother as he sobbed, his nails digging into her back, his body shaking. She felt relieved; Gene was okay; he would be, soon, at least. She closed her eyes, resting her chin on his shoulder, and held him until they both fell asleep.

* * *

“Bob! Bobby! Linda!”

Tina was jerked from her attempts to do homework the following afternoon by the distressed yelling of Teddy outside. Getting up from the kitchen table, Tina went into the living-room, and looked out of the window. He was there, looking up at her. “Tina, open the door!”

“Why?”

“I want to come in and see you; I'm worried about you all.”

“Uhh, you don't need to be,” she called, unable to not groan when she thought about the state of the house.

“I really think I should.”

“Hang on.” Tina closed the window, and went downstairs. She opened the front door a little, standing in the doorway, blocking the entrance.

“Tina!” Tina allowed Teddy to hug her, though she did not let go of the door. “I just want to help you guys,” he said sincerely. He felt _so_ bad for them, and he truly believed that them being cooped up inside all this time wasn't good for them.

“I know you do.”

“How's the hamper? You still got food?”

“We got food.” It was technically the truth; while the fridge was empty, the cupboards still had food, and they still had more than half the contents of Teddy's hamper. Plus, Tina still had her secret horde, so they were good. Until the money ran out, and then... well, Tina didn't know what she would do, and she bit the insides of her cheeks.

“What about money?”

“Yes, we have money.” Still technically the truth. Her stomach twisted at the idea of that running out, too, and she bit her cheeks again.

“Okay, that's good. If you need money, let me know; it won't be a problem.”

“Thanks,” she whispered.

“How are Bob and Linda?” he asked after a while. “I haven't seen them for ages. I don't care about the restaurant – well, I do, but you know what I mean – but I'd like to see 'em.”

“They're asleep,” Tina lied, gripping the door handle. She knew that her parents were both upstairs in their smelly room, drinking, and drinking, and drinking... She didn't want Teddy to see them like that. And if he saw what the house looked like... She couldn't bear the thought of having to go live somewhere else. “They haven't been sleeping a lot lately, and they're really tired.” She gripped the handle even harder.

“Oh. Okay,” Teddy looked disappointed. “Do you know when they're going back to work? Not 'cause I want a burger, but I think it'll be good for them, you know? I was reading about bereavement on the Internet, and it said that having a routine is really helpful. If you guys want, I'll help with the routine; I'll keep 'em on a schedule, and everything. Can I come tomorrow?”

“Uh, no. Sorry. We're, uh, busy.” Her knuckles were turning white.

“Busy?”

“Yeah, we've, uh, got some stuff planned.”

“Okay. What about the day after?”

“We're busy, then, too.”

“What about -?”

“Look, we're just really busy, all right?!” Tina snapped, and Teddy looked taken aback. “Sorry,” she said. “But we are just very, very busy. My dad will call you when he's.. ready,” and without saying goodbye, she shut the door, and went back upstairs, feeling the overwhelming urge to hit something.

Teddy remained where he was, looking even more worried. He wanted to help so badly, but it wasn't like he could force open the door, and make Bob talk to him. Even he knew there was a line, and he wasn't going to cross it.

The windows were still closed, and he couldn't hear anything coming from the apartment.

“Teddy?”

The handyman turned to see Mort approaching.

“Hey, Mort,” he said, fixing his gaze back on the living-room window. “Have you seen them yet?”

“Not since the funeral,” he said. “How about you?”

“The same,” Mort sighed, also looking up at the window. “It can't be good for them, you know. Isolating themselves. I mean, I get it, I get what they're going through, but I think having people around would help them.”

“Me, too,” Teddy admitted. “None of them will return my calls. I can't imagine what's it like for them; losing their kid.”

“Yeah,” Mort nodded, “especially when they were.. so close,” he looked down at the ground. “I don't know whether they're getting help, but I hope they are.”

“Couldn't we do something?” asked Teddy, “maybe one of those support circle things?”

“It's a nice idea, but I don't think us doing it would work,” said Mort truthfully, and Teddy slumped.

“Why not?”

“Because we can't understand what they're going through; we haven't lost a child,” and Teddy nodded, understanding. “I mean, I was working with that doctor, and he put them in touch with a counsellor, but unless they want the help, there isn't much anyone can do.”

“This shouldn't have happened,” Teddy murmured, his face twisting.

“No; it shouldn't have,” was all Mort said, before he saw Teddy staring at him, pain written all over his face.

“There was nothing that could have saved her, was there?” he asked, and Mort shook his head.

“The only thing that would have helped was the diggers getting there faster.”

Both men knew that they would never forget that morning; being so excited, and then hearing the devastating news. It still seemed like such a cruel joke.

“Well,” Teddy straightened up a bit, “when they are ready, for whatever, I'll be there for them.”

“I will, too.” For a moment, they stood there in solidarity outside the Belcher home. They kept their gazes fixed on the window, hoping that any one of the family members would open it, perhaps stick their head out, maybe wanting some fresh air. But nothing happened, and Mort sighed. “I'll see you later, Teddy,” he said, making the short walk back to his own home.

“Bye Mort,” and Teddy began to walk home, as well. He stuck his hands in his pockets, and kept his gaze on the ground. He felt very helpless; he was certain that if he could just talk to Bob and Linda, then maybe he could help them. Maybe he would be able to provide some comfort to them. He understood what Mort was saying, but the Burgers really shouldn't be alone right now. They needed someone.

Teddy had been lucky enough to have never lost a child, or any member of his family member (that he knew of), but he knew that if such a thing had happened to him, he doubted that he'd want to be alone. Teddy was sure he'd prefer to have friends and family around him; it would surely make him feel better. Neither Bob nor Linda had answered any of his phone calls, or replied to his messages, and if they wouldn't let him inside, then he could do nothing but wait until they wanted to talk.

Once at home, he sat on his sofa, his gaze falling to a framed photo on the side table. It was of him and the Belcher family, taken at Bob's birthday party, which consisted of the Belchers, and Teddy. As per usual, Bob looked annoyed, and Linda and the kids were grinning widely. Teddy picked up the picture, a sad smile crossing his face. It still didn't seem real. Even after three weeks, it didn't seem real. That bright eyed, maniacal little girl he loved like his own was gone.

He couldn't keep from imagining what it would be like if she was still alive. Would she still be in hospital? Or would she be at home, bossing everyone around, as she was waited on hand and foot, because of course Bob and Linda would have lavished her with love and attention. He knew she'd had a broken ankle, and something wrong with her back, and he knew she'd had internal injuries, but he believed that she wouldn't have been hospitalised for too long. Louise was tough, and she would have recovered quickly. It hurt, it hurt so much to know that she wasn't at home, she'd never be coming home.

Teddy's gripped tightened on the frame; this was the one thing he couldn't fix, and he'd never be able to fix it. If he could just – just do something, anything, to make the Burgers feel a tiny bit better, then it might ease the ache in his own heart.

* * *

_CRASH! CRASH!_

Logan awoke with a start, and sat up, his heart pounding. He got out of bed, grabbing his baseball bat, clutching it tighter as he heard footsteps. His door burst open, and he about jumped out of his skin, assuming a fighting stance.

“Logan!” It was his father, and he sighed in relief. “We gotta go! Come on!”

Logan just stood there, frozen. “Come on!” Tom stepped forward, and Logan found his feet, and they both ran out of his bedroom.

“What's happening?” he cried, as they bumped into Cynthia in the hallway.

“I don't know; it sounds like our windows have been smashed,” said Tom honestly, peeking around the corner and looking down the staircase. He couldn't see anyone. “So, we've gotta get outta here.”

“Wait, what about clothes and stuff? I don't even have shoes on,” Logan looked down at his bare feet.

“None of us do!” Cynthia hissed, “but we need to go right now!”

“All right, now keep quiet,” Tom began to lead his family down the stairs, gesturing for them to be quiet. Cynthia was holding his hand tightly, her phone in the other, and Logan was still holding his bat, his eyes wide.

At the bottom of the stairs, Tom stopped, and slowly peered around the corner. He could just about see the living-room. There were two bricks on the floor, with shards of glass scattered everywhere. He heard running footsteps outside, and he stiffened.

“What? What is it?” Cynthia whispered frantically, her grip on his hand even tighter, if that were possible.

“Shh. Just wait,” he whispered, angling his head toward the front door. He waited and waited and waited, but heard nothing, but he still didn't move. He had to be sure they were gone.

“I thought we were leaving?” Logan whispered.

“We are,” he looked back at his son. “But I wanna make sure they'll all gone.”

“They're still out there?!” Cynthia couldn't keep from shrieking, and she clapped her free arm over her mouth, and they all pressed themselves against the wall, as if they could be seen. Her hands were shaking; she knew she should be calling the police, but it was like she couldn't move.

“I heard footsteps; it could have been them running away, but I just wanna be sure,” he whispered. He waited a few moments longer, and still heard nothing. Maybe they had all gone. “Right, come on and keep quiet and stay together.”

Slowly, they tiptoed down the remaining stairs, holding on to one another. Tom gently picked up his car keys from the side table, when several more loud crashes were heard, and Cynthia screamed. More bricks had been thrown through the dining room window, and the kitchen, too, by the sound of it. “This way!” Tom pushed his wife and son down the hall toward the back door. There came a frantic thudding at the front door, along with hateful shouting. “Get – go out the back door!” he ordered, as more thudding sounded from the front of the house.

They ran outside, barely registering the cold, damp ground as they headed to side gate, and went as quietly as they could through the alleyway. Tom had his car keys primed and ready, and he lead his family toward the garage, heart thumping as yet more bricks were hurled at their home.

Once at the car, they closed the doors as quietly as possible, before Tom slowly drove down the alley. The mob – the largest one yet – stared at them as the car appeared from the side of the house. Tom waited long enough to see that the street was empty, before quickly driving away, and headed to the police station.

As it was, they ended up in a hotel, after Cynthia had spent the last hour arguing with a policeman. There wasn't really anything for her to argue about, but it was what she did when she was under stress.

Naturally, as it was too dangerous for them to return home, they'd had no choice but to find a hotel. Perhaps the biggest challenge was finding a hotel nice enough to please Cynthia. No cheap motels for her.

“Is this really worth worrying about now?” Tom sighed, as they searched online for nearby hotels, while still sat in the police station.

“I think getting a peaceful night's sleep in a clean bed is worth it,” Cynthia retorted, rubbing her arm.

“It's just for one night, though.”

“I know, which is why we should at least stay somewhere decent, somewhere that isn't crawling with roaches.”

Tom, too tired and worried to fight with her, continued looking until they found a hotel that looked nice enough to please his wife.

“How are we gonna pay for it?” asked Logan. “We don't have any money with us.”

“The officer said that he'd explain it to the manager, and we can pay in the morning,” Tom explained, and Logan's brows raised.

“We have to go back to the house?”

“A policeman will come with us,” Tom assured his son. “We can grab a few things, and we can find somewhere to stay.”

“Where?”

“We can stay with my brother,” said Tom. “He won't mind.”

And so, they were escorted to the “Life’s Simple P-leisures” hotel, and got a room. Cynthia and Tom fell asleep almost immediately, but Logan stayed awake. He lay in his bed, staring at the ceiling, before his restlessness got the best of him, and he got up, and headed to the window.

Logan drew back the curtain, and looked out of the window. He knelt down, and rested his elbows on the windowsill. He wasn't too sure of what time it was; it was around 1am when they'd fled, and he didn't know how long they'd been at the police station.

He was tired, but he couldn't sleep. A small part of him was wondering if the group of vigilantes could possibly follow them, and what would happen if they did. At least here, there were witnesses, and it wasn't like the mob knew which room they were staying in, or even which floor. That made him feel slightly better, but knowing he had to go home in just a few hours made him feel sick.

He gave a small sigh as he rested his chin in his hand, looking out at the sleepy town. The only sources of light came from the street lamps, the few 24-hour businesses, and the occasional car. It seemed so peaceful. He never knew that these small-town people were capable of such things. How had it come to this, when they were literally being fleeing their home in the dead of night, like fugitives?

Were the vandals gone now, or were they just waiting for him to come home, so they could resume their attack?

There was really no option for them but to move. This was getting too dangerous, and if they didn't take control of this, then he was going to end up getting very hurt.

Chewing on his bottom lip, Logan double-checked that the window and door were locked, before climbing into bed, dreading the following day.

That feeling of dread was only heightened when he and his family made their way back home, squashed together in the back of a police car.

The two officers pulled up outside the house, and stepped out, keeping watch. When the family saw the house, they could only stare. Every window had been smashed, and the front door had been kicked in. Graffiti was scrawled on every available surface; this time, there was a crude, cartoon spray-paint picture of Logan with devil horns. Buckets of paint had been thrown at the house, and it had also been egged.

“Oh, my God,” Cynthia whispered. She turned to the policemen. “Are you going to find the people who did this?”

“We will review the CCTV footage, and see if we can identify them,” said one of the officers.

“What if you can't?” asked Logan.

“If we can't, we will put out an appeal, and hope that the public comes forward.”

“What if they don't?” Logan asked.

“Well, there was a large group, from what Mrs Bush told us, and we can always question people about their whereabouts.”

Logan couldn't imagine anyone would own up to vandalism, but he was too focused on what the inside of the house was going to look like to argue.

Fortunately, the interior had not been touched, and none of their possessions had been destroyed. That, at least, gave them some small comfort. Splitting up from his parents, Logan headed to his room, and began packing. Clothes, shoes, money, his laptop and phone, and their respective chargers were hastily placed in his suitcase. As he didn't know when he would be able to come back, he also grabbed his headphones, his Xbox, his Apple smart watch that he never used but now really wanted for some reason, and a handful of his favourite video games. Hey, he needed something to do while he was to be stuck inside.

Soon enough, he was done, and he rejoined his parents, the both of them with their own suitcases, and they went back downstairs.

Before climbing back into the police car, they turned, and gave a final look at their once beautiful home, the home that had given them so many memories, before they got in the car and were driven away.

* * *

A continuous knocking drew Tina from her room, and she went down the hallway, with Gene following her, sincerely hoping that it wasn't anybody who wanted to come inside.

Instead, she opened the door to Mr Frond.

“Hello, Tina, Gene,” he said.

“Mr Frond?” she was confused as to why he was there. It was Saturday, right? She was pretty sure it was. “Um, are we supposed to be in school today? Because if we are, we can get ready, and go. I mean -”

“No, Tina; it's Saturday,” he told her, eyeing her with concern. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” she lied, “it's just.. you don't usually come here; I thought there was maybe a Saturday class or something.” She again gripped the door handle in an attempt to keep from groaning.

“Uh, no. No Saturday classes, but there is something I want to give you,” and he held out a thick book that she hadn't realised he was holding.

“Oh, okay. What's this?” she kept her gaze fixed on the counsellor.

“It's a memory book,” he explained, “from the kids at school.”

“Oh.” A lump formed in her throat. “Thank you.”

Frond looked at her, unable to keep the pity off his face.

“Okay, well, have a.. good weekend,” he mentally slapped himself for saying that. “Remember, my office is always open, for the both of you.”

“Okay,” said Tina. If she heard him say that one more time, she might scream. “Well, thanks again.”

“Bye,” said Frond, and Tina nodded a reply, shutting the door, and heading back upstairs. She and Gene went into the living-room, where their parents were.

“What's tha'?” Linda rubbed her eyes, struggling to sit up.

“It's a memory book; the kids at school made it.”

Linda tried to sit up again, but she was too drunk, and so she remained in the chair, an empty bottle of wine on the floor beside her.

Tina sat down on the sofa, and Gene sat down next to her. Neither of them made eye contact with Linda, because they didn't know what to do to help her, and pretty soon she was asleep. Instead, Tina opened the book. On the first page, they were greeted with a photo of a smiling Louise on picture day, pasted onto a cream background decorated with pastel butterflies. “Louise Belcher” was written at the top in curly writing with glitter pen, and the rest of the page was decorated with ribbon and little satin bows.

On the next page were a few photos from kindergarten; a four-year-old Louise holding a bucket and spade. In the next, she was on her knees, playing with building blocks, and in another, she was colouring, her tongue sticking out in concentration. Louise wasn't wearing her bunny ears in any of the pictures, and Tina had a vague memory of her baby sister wearing a pink beanie instead, which was what she had on in the picture. Underneath the photo her teacher had written:

_'Louise,_

_You were only in my class for a year, but I never forgot you. I always believed that you would go on to do great things, and live a good life. You were one of my brightest students, and always such a ball of energy. You're always in our hearts.'_

Tina and Gene bounced slightly as Bob flopped down heavily next to them, clutching a bottle of wine, as per usual.

“What's that?” he asked.

“The kids at school made a memory book,” said Tina, turning the page. Bob leaned over, the smell of alcohol radiating from him.

Not knowing what to say, the three of them looked through the book in silence, finding themselves extremely thankful for the candid photos the teachers would take every time there was a class project. It gave them new memories. They knew that Louise's class had mummified dead fish last year for science; she'd been looking forward to it, but seeing photos of her stuffing her fish with sawdust and herbs, and wrapping it in bandages, it just – it made them feel so incredibly grateful. Photos and videos were all they had left, and whenever they saw a new one, it was like getting a new part of her.

When Tina turned to Regular-sized Rudy's page, she paused, taking in the craftwork. The photos were edged with lace, and surrounded by little gems. Shiny satin ribbon bordered the pages, and the stickers and felt decorations were strategically arranged around the pictures. At the top was a cropped photo of him and Louise, covered in spaghetti sauce and smiling. She remembered that day. It had been fun, aside from the whole Turkey Trot disaster.

Another photo was from Rudy's birthday party, and there was a photo of the two of them at some school function where they had been partnered up. Their Christmas school concert, which Linda still had the video of; the entire school stood on stage singing Christmas carols and holiday pop tunes, dressed in satin choir robes, of all things. Louise had been placed next to Rudy, and they were on the left hand side. Tina's mouth twitched when she remembered that Louise had refused to do any of the moves that Frond had choreographed; some clapping here, a gesture there. The students had been arranged boy-girl so that they could turn to one another at various points during “Last Christmas.” Louise stubbornly remained facing the front, and also declined putting her arms up and waving during the finale song of “Merry Xmas Everyone.” She could clearly remember Frond frantically gesturing for her to join in while he was conducting, and he had chewed her out during the interval. She'd never found out exactly why Louise refused to partake, but maybe her sister just didn't feel like it? Tina drooped as she realised that she would probably never know.

At least Louise looked somewhat happy in the photo, Tina tried to console herself.

Rudy was perhaps the only student who had pictures of Louise outside of school; Halloween, another one of Rudy's birthday parties. There weren't many, due to Louise's dislike of socialising, but there were new pictures, and for that, Tina was grateful. The photos of Louise that had adorned the house for the funeral had all been gathered up, and now resided in a large photo album, which Tina kept in her room. Sometimes, she and Gene looked through it before bed, and yesterday, she had organised the photos chronologically, from youngest to oldest, just to give her hands something to do.

“That's nice,” Gene pointed to a photo of Louise in the middle of feeding the sharks at the aquarium. Miss LaBonz had had to take some pictures, as it was required for the class essays. Louise, in chum covered gloves that went up past her elbow, was beaming as she looked down at the sharks.

“That is nice,” Tina agreed. “I remember how happy she was when she came home.” It had been one of the best days of her sister's life; Louise had loved sharks ever since she was six.

“She watched _'Jaws',_ ” said Gene, and Tina nodded. He had continued to talk, although not half as much as he used to; he either communicated using just a single word, or small sentences.

“Yeah, she did,” the kids remembered that when Louise had come home, she had watched _“Jaws”_ , the movie that had kickstarted her obsession. As per usual, she had watched the second half twice; the interesting parts, she called it.

“I remember that,” Bob's heavy finger fell onto the page. “Louise got to feed sharks.” His head dangled very close to the book. “She loves sharks.”

“Yeah,” Tina whispered. She kind of had the urge to watch _“Jaws”_ , but she also didn't; it would just be too hard.

“These are nice photos,” Bob said, wiping his nose with the back of his hand. “It was nice of them to give this to us.”

“It really was,” said Tina.

The three of the continued to look through the book, reminiscing with every new photo they saw.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Done. What did you think?  
> If you read "The Stuff You Were Never Meant to See", you might notice the inclusion of the Wagstaff Christmas concert. I really liked that scene, but it had to be cut out of the final draft, so I decided to sort of bring it back here.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, everyone. I'm back with the latest chapter for you. I hope you enjoy reading.

Learning to Live Without You

Chapter 8

“Damn it!” Tina shot out of bed, fumbling with her alarm. She couldn't believe she'd slept through it again, and she began shaking Gene. “Gene! Wake up, Gene! We're late!” Late was an understatement; school started in less than twenty minutes. “Gene, come on!” she repeated, turning away when her brother had sat up, rubbing his eyes.

Throwing open her wardrobe, Tina scanned for clothes, before realising she didn't have any. Well, she didn't have any that were appropriate for school; she couldn't exactly wear her pink party dresses, or her thick winter clothes, not when it was May. Her black catering dress would have been fine, if it didn't carry such horrible memories, so she couldn't wear that either.

Tina ran to the bathroom, and dug through the laundry basket; she pulled out two shirts, a pair of shorts, and a skirt, and quickly sniffed them. Compared to the rest of the clothing in the basket, they didn't smell too bad, and she brought them back to her room. They didn't have time to shower, and there was no hot water, anyway.

The two of them hurriedly got dressed, and Tina self-consciously smoothed down the wrinkles in her shirt, which she now realised was Gene's, but it was too late to change. Her skirt was feeling rather tight at the waist, but again, there was no time to change. “Okay, go brush your teeth,” she said, while heading to the kitchen, and hunting through the cupboards. Finding the room freshener, she sprayed it all over herself while simultaneously checking the empty fridge, as if she expected it magically refill itself.

Tina fixed her barrette as she joined Gene in the bathroom, hurriedly brushing her teeth, and mentally checking what was in their backpacks as she did so. They both had their books, and pencil cases, and they had their (poorly done) homework. That was all they needed. “Gene,” she said, when her brother had finished, “go get your backpack, and maybe brush your hair.” Gene only nodded, and left the bathroom, while Tina continued scrubbing, observing the dark circles under her eyes.

When she'd finished, she grabbed her backpack, and hastily dragged a brush through her hair, so she at least looked presentable, before they left. Their parents wouldn't miss them; they wouldn't even notice the kids were gone, and so Tina didn't feel bad about not attempting to wake them.

As they quickly walked down the street, Tina placed the key into her backpack, her stomach twisting as she realised they didn't have lunches; usually, she made them the night before, but she'd had to stop, as Gene had a new habit of going on late night eating binges. She did, too, sometimes; it wasn't planned, and it helped fill that huge empty void inside her. “We're going to eat lunch at school today,” she said, and Gene nodded. Although he continued to talk, he preferred not to, only speaking when it was necessary. They had barely enough for dinner that night, which reminded Tina that she needed to go shopping again. Or maybe she had to do something drastic, like putting locks on the fridge and cupboards? Her hands grabbed the hem of the oversized shirt, balling into fists.

Things had gotten a little better at school; people were treating them normally, although they would sometimes be confronted with a well-meaning but insensitive student, asking about Louise. Tina just didn't answer them, and walked away.

Luckily, they got there just as the final bell rang, and they raced off to class, taking their seats just in time.

Tina actually felt glad she was in Gene's classes; she'd done the work, and although she didn't remember it all too well, it meant that she didn't have to focus; she had too much to focus on as it was.

While the teacher spoke of persuasive writing, Tina looked down at her notebook, twiddling her pen. She began to write a to-do list; something that wasn't needed, but her mind wouldn't rest until it was all done.

_'Get home from school_

_Do laundry_

_Make dinner_

_Online food shop_

_Clean kitchen – wash dishes, clean counters, take out garbage, etc._

_Try and get hot water.'_ That one stumped her. She didn't know how to pay the water bill, and even if she did, she needed to buy food; that was more important. She gave a little sigh, and rested her chin in her hand, staring down at her list.

“Tina? Tina?” Ms Jacobson's voice jolted her back to reality, and she jumped a little. “Are you with us?”

“Oh, er, yes. I am,” Tina straightened up, and closed her notebook.

“Okay, then.” Ms Jacobson gave her another look, before she resumed teaching.

Tina forced herself to focus; it shouldn't be this hard, she'd done it all before. Even though it was under completely different circumstances, this was supposed to be easy for her. The words on the whiteboard didn't seem to make sense.

She must have done an okay job, as the teacher did not call on her, although she did take note of how tired Tina looked. The poor girl probably wasn't sleeping very well. She knew that the other teachers, as well as Mr Frond, were keeping an eye on them; they still needed support.

At lunchtime, Tina and Gene sat alone, ignoring the stares they were getting. They could sense the stares though; truthfully, it wasn't hard to miss; their friends were sat on the table opposite, looking at them with all the subtlety of a bulldozer knocking down a building.

Tina tried to eat slowly, even though they both took extra helpings of everything. It might not have been the right thing to do, but they were hungry, so there really wasn't any other option.

She kept her eyes focused on her tray, knowing that her peers were watching, whispering, exchanging glances, so she couldn't bring herself to look at them. Jimmy Jr. had barely even looked at her in weeks, and it seemed that Regular-sized Rudy did nothing but stare at her. She knew he followed them around school, wanting to talk to them, but the words were always dying on his lips.

If the Belcher kids had had less to focus on, they might have had the time to feel sorry for Rudy; he'd lost his best friend, and now he spent every break-time sitting against the wall, watching the children play.

When they had finished eating, they did not go out into the playground; instead, they remained sat at the table, gazing down at their empty trays.

“Tina? Gene?”

They looked up to see Zeke sat opposite them. “Y'all wanna come outside?”

“No, thanks,” said Tina, looking back down at her tray.

“Ya sure? We can play some Ga-ga ball.”

“No,” was all Gene said, and Zeke looked downtrodden.

“All right,” he said, not one to push people into doing things they didn't want to do. “If you change your mind, I'll gladly play with ya.” He stood, hovering near them. “T-Bird, ya still got my number?”

“Yes,” Tina didn't lift her eyes from the tray.

“Okay, well, remember, y'all both can call me any time, all right? No matter what.”

“Sure,” said Tina, and Zeke walked away, looking back over his shoulder at them. They didn't look over at him, and continued looking at their food trays.

Tina waited until the last few kids left before she stood up. The bell would be ringing at any moment, so they had to start moving soon. She slowly walked through the cafeteria, avoiding Hildy's eye. When she was sure no-one was watching, she pulled a brown paper bag from her pocket and grabbed some uneaten fish sticks, placing them in the bag. Chancing a quick glance around her, Tina moved to the next table, and did the same thing again. It didn't occur to her that the fact she had prepared for this was a sign that something was wrong. In her mind, she was doing a good thing; whenever she bought food, it was gone in a day, maybe two if she was lucky. She would take whatever extras she could get. The only downside was that the food made her backpack smell, but that was a small price to pay; at least they could eat an actual meal tonight.

When she had filled the bag, she placed it into her backpack and she and Gene left.

“Tina?”

She jumped slightly, and looked behind her to see Mr Frond approaching.

“Yes?” she she gripped the straps of her backpack tightly.

“I'd like to see you and Gene in my office, please.”

“After school?”

“No, now.” He indicated for them to follow him, which they did.

Frond sat down at his desk, observing their messy hair, their wrinkled clothes. “You know my office is always open, right?”

“Yes,” said Tina.

“Is there anything you wanna talk about?”

“Like what?” she asked, hoping he wouldn't notice that her hands had clenched, which had become her 'new thing'. The groaning and hyperventilating would never cease, but this new 'tell' was less obvious, which helped her a lot.

“Well, how are things at home?”

“They're fine.”

Frond hesitated.

“Did you know the school has breakfast club every morning? It's not much; mainly cereal and fruit, but it's a way for students to get to know each other, and make some friends. We also have homework club, if that interests you, along with other after school clubs.”

“We don't have the time for clubs,” said Tina, although the breakfast club would take a lot of strain off of her.

“Well, at least have a think about it. You don't have to if you don't want to,” he assured them. “It's okay to ask for help if you're struggling, you know,” he said kindly. The kids said nothing. “It's okay to struggle, but you don't have to do it alone.”

“We're fine,” said Tina, and she looked over at Gene, who nodded.

“We're fine,” he repeated.

“Okay,” Frond nodded, trying to approach the subject delicately. “There's no time limit. We'd like to help you in any way we can.”

“There's only one thing that will help, Mr Frond, and it's something that can't be done,” said Tina flatly. She was beginning to understand what he was saying. “I know we don't look great, but I don't care. I just don't. I don't care if my hair is neat and tidy, I don't care if our clothes aren't neat. I don't care about any that.”

“Of course,” Frond nodded. “I can understand that. No matter what you choose, we're all here to support you both.”

“Okay. Thank you. We're gonna get to class now.”

At Frond's nod, she and Gene left the room.

* * *

The house was silent when they returned from school, just as they knew it would be. And it was still dirty, which had long stopped surprising them. They surveyed the grubby floors, the dusty pictures and surfaces. There was no sign of Bob and Linda, who were more than likely in their room, in an alcohol-induced blackout.

“They're sleeping,” said Gene, and Tina nodded.

“Yeah,” was all she found she could say. “Come on,” she led him into the living-room, where he sat down on the sofa, gently holding his locket. Gene appeared to have regressed slightly; Tina could think of no other explanation as to why he seemed so oblivious, to put it nicely. It was like he hadn't even noticed that Linda and Bob got blackout drunk every day, or that Tina was effectively running the house.

Crouching down by the television, Tina placed a CD in the DVD player, and turned up the volume. It was one of the albums of that Japanese singer Louise liked; Tina still couldn't pronounce her name – something Sparkle? She felt like this was what Louise wanted her to do, and so that's what she was doing. The music wasn't really Tina's style, but the happy, energetic beats drowned out the silence.

If Tina was honest with herself, she would have never guessed that Louise liked this kind of stuff; the singer was the epitome of cute; dressed in lace and frills, and her high-pitched voice would have put Snow White to shame. But she'd seen the music videos, and it had all clicked; cute, but weird, and very creepy.

Tina sat down in the chair. Why hadn't Louise shared this with her? She would have listened to the album, watched the videos. She wouldn't have judged. In fact, Tina liked some of the songs; it could have been their thing. She got up, and switched the CD off.

“Why'd you turn it off?” asked Gene.

“I don't feel like listening to it today,” she said, putting on some cartoons. “Gene, I want you to do your homework,” she handed him his backpack, and took up her own. Hovering in the doorway, she made sure that Gene had at least taken the book out, before she went into the kitchen. She placed the fish sticks, the apples, and the bread rolls inside the fridge, and pulled out her notebook, scanning her list. First up, laundry.

Tina grabbed a pile of dirty clothes from the basket and put them in the washing machine, using the tiniest amount of detergent from the nearly empty bottle she possibly could. Pressing the button, she waited for the cycle to start, before turning back to the fridge, taking the fish sticks back out and placing them in the oven. She also took some eggs, and cracked those over a pan.

While they were cooking, Tina made her way to her bedroom, and found her purse. It was empty, so she went to her piggy bank. Also empty.

Her stomach swirling, Tina, as calmly as she could, retrieved the laptop from the living-room, and took it to the kitchen. Sitting at the table, she checked her online savings, and her stomach clenched even further when she saw that she had nothing left. She'd forgotten that she'd spent it all.

Tina bunched her fists into her hair, and stared at the screen until the colours seemed to explode, biting her lip. What was she supposed to do? The restaurant was still closed; there was no way Tina could run it by herself, and so they weren't making any money.

Releasing her hair, she tapped a quick anxious tune on the table, before getting up to search the cupboards. No bread, no pasta, no crackers, no potatoes, no soup. Basically, unless she found some money, they were screwed. She wished, not for the first time, that they had kept their chicken; free eggs every day would be a big help.

There was cheese in the fridge, but it was stale, and she wanted to save the apples and bread rolls for breakfast. While she was there, Tina decided to hide them in her secret place in her room. At least they still had that, but it was dwindling as well. She didn't want to use any more of it unless she absolutely had to, and she did have one more option.

Slowly opening her parents' bedroom door, Tina crept inside. It stank, it smelled of alcohol, mustiness, vomit, and sweat, and she pulled her shirt up over her nose.

Carefully stepping over the numerous bottles littering the floor, trying not to wake her snoring mother and father, she went over to the dresser, and opened the top drawer. Fighting the urge to groan, to hyperventilate, she grabbed Bob's wallet. Just her luck, it was empty, as was Linda's. Even their “secret” money stash was gone, and so Tina had no option but to take their cards. She also grabbed their phone.

Heading back into the kitchen, she took a towel and pulled the fish sticks from the oven, setting them aside to cool slightly, and then she removed the eggs from the pan.

She turned back to the laptop, and signed in to her parents' bank accounts; a little trick Louise had taught her. Tina would have never imagined ever needing to use it.

Only of the cards had anything on it, and it was $10. A quick look at the browsing history told her that several amounts of wine had been ordered recently, so that would explain it. She was already thinking of the best place to hide the cards.

Tina plated up the fish sticks and the eggs, and found a few slices of ham to go with them, before calling Gene in.

“Thanks,” he muttered, sitting and at the table and digging in. The food was mostly warm, but it was food, so they couldn't complain, and when she had finished, she went back onto the laptop, and logged onto the Fresh Feed online store.

“Okay, pasta for a dollar, in the basket. Some bread, also a dollar, in the basket. More eggs, potatoes, tomato soup; six cans for three dollars,” she muttered as she shopped. She had three dollars left, so she had to make them count. “Okay, ham, cheese, and cereal. Done.” She was so glad Fresh Feed had a dollar menu, and they did next day delivery. And, as they lived locally, it was free, so, finally, they had a bit of good luck.

She also noticed a Facebook notification for an event coming up next month. Wagstaff school were going to hold a lip synching competition at the local community centre, in order to “raise funds for the Louise Belcher Memorial Garden. Tickets will be $5 on the door, and everyone is welcome to attend. Students, parents, and teachers will be battling it out on stage, and audiences can vote for their favourite by purchasing raffle tickets.”

Right. Mr Frond had mentioned something like that. Tina wasn't sure if she was going to go. On the one hand, it sounded like a fun night; a bunch of school kids dramatically miming to classic songs. On the other hand... Knowing why they were doing this... it wasn't that Tina didn't appreciate them, but that knowledge of why they were fundraising would surely put a dampener on the evening, wouldn't it?

When Gene had finished eating, Tina sent him back into the living-room, where he was curled up on the sofa with the photo album of Louise, and Tina began to clean the kitchen. She had found that she actually preferred all the cleaning; it kept her mind busy, and it made it easier for her to sleep. One thing she didn't like was that it left her without any time to visit Louise, and she felt incredibly guilty about that. She had no money to spend on flowers; technically, she could, but then they wouldn't eat, and she hoped Louise would understand. Louise wasn't a fan of flowers anyway, so it shouldn't bother her too much, right?

She put some water in a pot, and set it on the stove, and then pulled the clothes out of the washing machine, transferring them to the dryer. When she had done that, she ran a bath, filling it halfway with cold water. She then filled the rest of it up with the hot water from the stove. “Gene! Bath's ready!” she called. “Make sure you're not in there too long,” she said, when he came into the bathroom, “and your pyjamas are on the toilet seat,” she pointed, and then left him to it.

While Gene bathed, Tina sent a quick text to Pop-pop: _'went to counselling, now going str8 to bed as we are tired.'_ She didn't feel good about lying so blatantly, but if he thought they weren't going, then he was going to want to come round, and she didn't want that. She was running out of space to hide the empty bottles, and if he saw that they were very low on food and money, then he would be angry at Bob and Linda, and it wasn't their fault. It was no different to the texts she had sent to Gayle, Teddy, Mort, as well as Al and Gloria.

That Nadia lady hadn't yet returned, which Tina was glad of. She didn't think that counsellor could help much, anyway; not with her parents the way they were.

They would be fine; all she had to do was find a way to make some money, and then everything would be fine.

* * *

The very next day, it seemed that she had found the answer to her problems. Late for school once again, Tina and Gene were walking down the street when they heard a voice calling to them. Turning, they saw Mr Fischoeder approaching on his golf cart.

“Hello, Belcher brethren!” he hailed, as the kids stopped, and he climbed out of the cart, his white suit pristine, eye patch firmly in place.

“Hello, Mr Fischoeder.”

“And how are we today?” he asked, his expression unusually soft.

“We're okay,” Tina said.

“That's good to hear. Terrible thing to have happened; terrible, terrible thing,” he muttered. “Luckily, I've never experienced the loss of a sibling; of course, Felix is prone to up and leaving on a whim for his travels, but it's not quite the same, is it?” He chuckled lightly, looking down at the kids. “I take it you're aware that your parents haven't paid their rent since February; that's three months now.”

“Yes, Mr Fischoeder,” Tina's stomach twisted, and she had to fight back a wave of vomit.

“Of course, under the circumstances, it's completely understandable,” he said, and she relaxed slightly. Maybe, she thought, maybe he could help them out? He was their landlord, after all. Not that she expected him to just hand them money for free, but maybe she could do some odd jobs around his house? She could clean – she was getting pretty good at that – or she could do yard work, or even deliver his mail? He surely wouldn't object. Okay, he was a bit eccentric, but he would help them out, right?

“Um...” she tried to gather up the courage. “M-Mr Fischoeder -”

“Of course, I am running a business here,” Fischoeder carried on, not hearing her, “and this will be the last month that I don't expect rent. I have to make money, too, see?”

Tina's words died on her lips, as he jumped back into the cart. “I shall see you next month, burger babies!”

Tina didn't know how long she stared after him, feeling a mixture of illness and dread. She was in trouble.

“Are you coming?” asked Gene, not noticing her white face, her clenched fists.

“Sure,” she whispered, forcing her feet to move.

Later that evening, while Gene was doing his homework, Tina opened the laptop, and her fingers hovered over the keys. She hadn't dared do this at school; she couldn't risk anyone seeing. Nervously, she typed in _'how to make parents stop drinking.'_ She now knew that she couldn't get the rent money by herself; it was down to Bob and Linda.

Unfortunately, every webpage she visited told her that her parents had to want to get better themselves, and gave no information on how she could hurry that process along. Okay. She needed money, and she had no way of getting it. And if she didn't get it, they would be kicked out. And if they were kicked out, then they had nowhere to stay...

Hyperventilating, Tina dashed to bathroom, fearing she was going to be sick. She stayed for a while, wondering if it would catch her unawares, but when it didn't happen, she returned to the kitchen, tugging on her hair. She grabbed an apple, and began munching anxiously. She reached up and grabbed her locket, gently rubbing her thumb over the cool metal, the little curly engravings on the front.

As soon as she had finished, she grabbed another, knowing she shouldn't, but not caring. Tina ate the entire bag of apples, before she crawled into her bed and fell asleep.

* * *

Days later, walking down the halls of Wagstaff, the Belchers headed for Tina's locker. There was a small group of kids nearby; Jimmy Jr., Zeke, Tammy, Jocelyn, a bunch of kids from Louise's class, and some others whom she didn't know. When they saw her approaching, they quickly left, bar Zeke, but Tina didn't have the energy to care.

“Hey, guys,” Zeke approached them as Tina opened her locker.

“Hey,” said Tina.

“So, uh, we were thinking of goin' to Falafel on a Waffle after school. Do ya wanna join us?”

“No, thanks.”

“Okay. Can I ask why, though?”

“We don't like falafels, or waffles,” she lied.

“Oh, well, that's okay; we could go to Reggie's Deli, or Caboose Kabob? I know ya like Pie in the Sky.”

“No, thanks,” she repeated. “I just don't feel like it.”

Zeke's face fell slightly.

“All right; I understand. If you ever change your mind, let us know.”

“We will,” Tina concentrated on gathering her books, while Zeke walked away. As soon as he was gone, Tina pulled her parents' cards from her backpack, hiding them at the back of her locker. She had it all planned out; whenever she needed to buy food, she would bring the card home, and then hide it when she had finished. Then, the following day, she would return it to her locker. She hoped that if her parents couldn't buy any alcohol, then they would stop drinking. They had to, right?

Closing her locker, she stared intently at the metal, before forcing herself to walk to class, both she and Gene clutching their lockets. She understood that they were trying to cheer her up, to make her feel better, but she didn't want to be around them, and besides, she was broke. Plus, the apartment was a mess; it seemed to have dirtied itself over night, so she had that to look forward to when she got home.

“Well? What did they say?” asked Jimmy Jr., when Zeke had returned.

“She said no. I gave her different places, but they didn't wanna go.”

“Oh. So, what do we do about the, you know, thing?”

“We'll do it anyway, but keep it quiet; we don't want them to find out.”

“All right.”

“The other kids know not to say anythin', don't they?”

“Yeah; they all said they'd keep it a secret. Hey, what made you decide to do this?” Jimmy Jr. stopped walking, and looked at his friend.

“Have ya seen 'em?” Zeke said. “This is the least we can do. And it'll be ready tomorrow.”

“Yeah, I guess you're right.” They walked into the classroom, and took their seats, and spoke no more of what they were planning. Tina did not join them, as she was still taking classes with Gene, and Zeke hoped that none of the sixth-graders accidentally spilled the beans. He didn't want to embarrass the Belcher kids.

At break-time, Mr Frond was distracted by his crocheting by a knock on his office door. He looked up and saw that it was Regular-sized Rudy, who looked conflicted.

“Mr Frond?” he asked, taking a step forward.

“Yes, Rudy? What is it?”

Rudy sat down in the chair, fiddling with his hands.

“I – I feel like I did something wrong,” he admitted, looking up at the counsellor.

“Why? Tell me what happened.” Frond put down his knitting needles, and placed his hands on the desk.

“Well, a couple of days ago, in between third and fourth period, I was in the hall at my locker, when Peter Pescadero came running down the hall. He tripped over something, and fell, and did, like, a forward roll, and then slid along the floor. I laughed.”

“Is that what you feel bad about?” asked Frond, and Rudy nodded. “Well, I'm sure Peter's fine, and it's normal to laugh at something you find funny -”

“That's not it,” said Rudy. “I feel bad for laughing because... I shouldn't be laughing. It felt wrong to be happy,” he finished.

“Why?”

“Because – because my best friend is dead. It's only been three months; shouldn't I still be sad? I am sad, because I miss her, but I shouldn't have laughed, because it wasn't right.” The boy tried to articulate how he was feeling.

“I think I understand what you mean,” said Frond. “You feel as though being happy is disrespecting Louise, and her memory, and you feel that you need to keep mourning her.”

“Yeah, that's it!”

“Remember what I said: there's no right or wrong way to grieve? Well, it's true. I know you and Louise were close, and I know her death affected all of us. If you feel like laughing, then laugh; it's okay.” He knew not to say things like 'Louise would want you to be happy', because it wouldn't help. “You can always talk to me,” he offered. “I'll help in any way I can. Just know that you're not doing anything wrong. There's no rule that says you have to be sad for this amount of time, or that you have to start being happy after this many months.”

“Really?”

“Really,” Frond confirmed. “Just remember, it's okay to be happy. It doesn't mean that you've forgotten about Louise, or that you don't care about her.”

“Thanks, Mr Frond.” Rudy slid off his chair. He didn't really feel better, but it was a relief to know that there wasn't something wrong with him. He still felt bad, though, and he wasn't entirely sure whether it would ever go away. Rudy didn't really see how things could get better, because he was never going to see Louise again, and it wasn't fair.

Pulling his inhaler from his pocket, he brought it to his lips and pumped it, and continued walking down the corridor.

Heading onto the playground, he spied Zeke, Andy, Ollie, and a few others playing Ga-ga ball, and after a brief hesitation, he climbed into the pit, and joined the game. Zeke flashed him an understanding smile, but did not say anything.

Rudy didn't really feel better, but then, he didn't expect to. However, the game did help to take his mind off Louise a little bit, and he was very grateful for that.

* * *

Tina was extremely glad to get home, to get some peace and quiet. It seemed to her that the staring from the other kids had started up again, and she wasn't sure how much longer she could handle it.

The following day, there came a knocking at the door, and Tina, whose insides now twisted with worry whenever that happened, ignored it. Even when it continued, she refused to get up.

“The door is knocking,” said Gene.

“I know.”

“Why don't you answer it?”

“I don't want to,” she said, and Gene thankfully did not press the subject.

When the knocking had stopped, she went over to the window, and peeped out. She couldn't see anyone, but she saw something outside their door.

Heading down the stairs, she opened the door a fraction, making sure there was no one around, before she fully opened the door. There was a large box directly in front of her, and Tina bent down and cautiously lifted one corner. She could see plastic bottles but couldn't figure out what was in them.

Another quick, cursory check to make sure no one was there, Tina picked up the box and brought it inside.

Crouching down behind a car parked outside Jimmy Pesto's, Zeke peeked out from behind the bumper, watching silently. He breathed a small sigh of relief when he saw Tina take the box. He hoped this would help them out.

Carrying it into the living-room, Tina placed it on the floor, and knelt down.

“What's that?” asked Gene, looking down at it, relinquishing his hold on his locket.

“I don't know.” Tina lifted the flaps and looked properly inside, and her jaw dropped. Inside were bottles of shampoo. There was toothpaste, money, food, along with deodorant, and many other household essentials.

Tina brought a hand up to her mouth. She didn't know who had sent this, but she was extremely grateful. “Let's eat,” was all she found she could say.

With Gene following her, Tina brought the box into the kitchen, putting it on the table. She pulled out bread, grapes, cheese, soup, cookies, ham, lettuce, beans, yoghurts, chicken nuggets, among other snacks.

Hunger getting in the way of logic, Tina cooked almost everything up, and they ended up having a veritable feast. Even while she was eating Tina knew it was wrong; they should be saving their food, but these ham and cheese sandwiches, with grapes dipped in yoghurt, plus a side of nuggets and beans, was just too good to pass up. For the first time in a long, long time, they went to bed with full stomachs.

They had been able to properly brush their teeth that night, as well, without having to use the most tiniest amount of toothpaste, and tomorrow evening, they would actually get to bathe and wash their hair.

The only things that were missing from their (much appreciated) mystery hamper was laundry detergent and washing up liquid, but at that moment, Tina wasn't too concerned about that. They had food, proper food. That was more important.

Less than a week later, however, Tina was eating her words. Not literally, though there were times where she was so hungry that she wanted to. But not only were they running dangerously low on food, they were completely out of bin liners, detergent and dish soap. And money. So, now they had very little food, no clean clothes, no way to clean them, and no money, and Tina had resumed tugging on her hair whenever she was alone.

Laundry wasn't that big of a problem now; for some reason, many of Tina's skirts and jeans didn't fit her any more, and so she had resorted to wearing Gene's clothes, using a belt to hold them up. It meant less laundry, but now they had ended up hanging the clothes off the railing on the fire exit, so they at least smelt fresh.

Perhaps the hardest thing was keeping visitors away. Teddy still came by every day, and Gayle had come by a few times, though Tina wouldn't let them in the house. Fortunately, they believed her lies about her family either going to counselling or taking a nap, or anything she could think of along those lines. She wasn't sure whether or not she was glad that they believed her.

Bob and Linda wouldn't be good company anyway; when they weren't sleeping or passed out, they were either drinking or drunk.

Many a time had Tina been just too anxious to hear the door knocking; other times, she played music so that she couldn't hear anything, and if she couldn't hear the knocking, then she didn't feel sick. She couldn't stand feeling like were snakes writhing around in her stomach.

But that evening, there came a knocking at the door, and no matter how much she tried to ignore it, the person, whoever it was, wouldn't stop.

“Tina!” called a voice, and she groaned; it was Pop-pop. She curled up in her chair, hoping that he would eventually give up and go away. “Tina? Gene! Answer the door!” The knocking continued relentlessly, and Tina curled up even smaller, as though he could see her. “Tina!” came his voice again, and Tina reached up, and began to pull her hair.

“It's Pop-pop,” said Gene, not getting up from the sofa, nor looking at the window.

“I know,” Tina whispered.

“Why don't you let him in?”

“I don't want to,” was all she could say, drawing her knees up to her chest. But the knocking continued, and seemed to get louder the more she ignored it. She closed her eyes; he'd have to give up and leave sooner or later, right?

“Tina! I'm not leaving until you answer the door!” Pop-pop yelled, and Tina groaned, and slowly got up.

She headed down the stairs and opened the door a crack. Big Bob was looking down at her, his face a mixture of relief and worry.

“Hey, Pop-pop, what's up?” she hoped she sounded casual.

“Didn't you hear me knocking?”

“N-not at first.”

“That's okay. Well, open the door so I can get in.”

Tina's breath quickened.

“No! I mean, no; that's okay. Everything's fine.” She smiled widely, but Big Bob didn't look convinced.

“Well, let me in anyway; I want to see my son,” he said, and Tina began to groan. “Tina? You okay?”

“We're fine. We're all fine, so there's no need to come in. Ha, ha.” She plastered on another wide smile, but Big Bob frowned lightly.

“It's all right; I just wanna see how he's doing.”

“He's fine, Dad's fine, everything's fine,” Tina gabbled, but this didn't ease Big Bob's worries at all.

“Tina, what's going on?”

“Nothing!”

“Come on, sweetheart.” He gently pushed her aside, and then opened the door, heading upstairs. Tina could only follow, dreading his reaction.

Big Bob stood in the kitchen, horrified. He could only stare, too shocked to speak. The room was filthy and grimy; there were dirty dishes piled high in the sink, and there were overflowing bin bags everywhere. The sides were littered with empty food boxes, dried, encrusted food stains, and the floor was filthy. Dust covered every available surface, and flies were buzzing around the bin and the food containers. There was also a lingering smell of dampness, and all around staleness.

He brought a hand up to his mouth. Words couldn't explain how guilty he felt; he should never have left them alone for this long. He crossed over to the fridge, and opened the door. Nothing in there except for a few slices of bread, and some grapes.

“Pop-pop?” came Tina's quiet voice, standing in the hallway with Gene. Big Bob hadn't said anything for several minutes.

“Right,” he said, looking around him, his face set. He didn't need to see the rest of the house. “Pack some clothes; you two are gonna stay with me for a while.”

Tina and Gene stared at him, before exchanging glances.

“We – we don't have any clean clothes,” Tina admitted, hanging her head.

“It doesn't matter; I'll wash them, just go and pack some stuff. Don't forget your school stuff.”

Again, Gene and Tina only stared, before they silently heading off to Tina's room. They hadn't been expecting this.

When they had left, Big Bob left the kitchen and headed to Bob and Linda's room. Bob was sprawled out on the bed, while Linda was on the floor. A quick check told him that they had passed out, or were sleeping, and he shook Bob's shoulder, but got no response. He then left, unable to stay in the smelly room littered with empty bottles for any longer than he had to.

He went to the stairs, waiting for Gene and Tina, who soon appeared, with Tina pulling a little suitcase. “You ready?” he asked, and they nodded. “Okay, let's go.” He ushered them down the stairs and out the front door.

Once in the car, Tina turned around and looked back at her once happy home, feeling that it would never be a place of joy again.

* * *

At Big Bob's apartment, he immediately ran a hot bath, and put the dirty clothes in the washing machine. “Right, Tina, you hop in the bath, and then, Gene, you can get in afterwards. Your clothes won't be dry, but I'll leave some of mine out.”

“Okay,” was all Tina could say, heading to the bathroom.

When both kids had bathed, they sat in the kitchen dressed in some of Big Bob's oversized nightshirts. For the first time in ages, they had been able to properly wash their hair, using actual shampoo and conditioner instead of soap, and they now felt clean and refreshed.

The kids couldn't help but feel overjoyed when Big Bob put two plates in front of them, piled high with mashed potatoes, ham, and peas; an actual hot, properly cooked meal. It was bliss, and tasted even better than it looked. Big Bob worked on his own plate while Gene and Tina had third helpings of everything, each bite filling that awful, ravenous feeling in their stomachs. When they had finished, they remained at the table, too full to move, remembering what it was like to eat like that every night.

“Pop-pop?” asked Tina quietly. “Are we gonna call Mom and Dad?”

“No,” said Big Bob. “We'll wait and see how long it takes them to notice. Until then, you're gonna stay here.”

“... Okay.”

The three of them still sat at the table silently. Tina played with her cutlery, tapping them against her empty plate, while Gene leaned back in his chair, the feeling of a full stomach rendering him mute.

“Tina?” Big Bob said after a while. “Why didn't you tell me what was happening?” He wasn't angry; he could only imagine how hard it was for her.

“... I don't know,” she said truthfully. “I guess.. I didn't want anyone to see.”

“I would've helped; we all would have. Tell me how long it's been like this.”

“Um, since... since Louise left. Since she was buried,” Tina hung her head, her face red. “Mom and Dad drink all day, so I've been trying to cook and clean and everything.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Big Bob placed his hand on her shoulder. “You should have come to me. What else?”

“Uh, when we started running out of money, I had to use my savings, and Mom and Dad's money, and take their cards, and then take food from the school cafeteria.” Saying it out loud made it seem so terrible, when it hadn't seemed that bad in reality.

“You poor kids,” Big Bob sighed. “If I'd have known... Why didn't you use the money?”

“We did, but it all disappeared.”

“No, the funeral money,” he said, and Tina blinked. “The money that was leftover from Louise's funeral,” he explained gently. “We only spent around eight or nine thousand dollars, and last time we checked, there was over $150 grand in the fund. There could be more, but you could have used that.”

“But... that was for her funeral,” said Tina, and Big Bob had to smile a bit.

“Tina, any leftover money from stuff like that belongs to the person it was raised for, or their family. It's yours to do whatever you want with.”

Tina still felt a little confused; it was a funeral fund, so it was supposed to be used for a funeral.

“But – it's...” Tina felt embarrassed, but Big Bob understood.

“You can use it for anything you need to,” he assured her. “If you need me to help with any of that stuff, I will.”

“Okay.” Tina looked back down at the table, while Big Bob cleared their plates.

“Come on,” he said, turning to them, “let's go into the living-room.”

Tina and Gene followed their grandfather into the small, cosy living-room, where they all curled up together on the sofa.

Grabbing the remote, Big Bob flipped through the channels, settling for a movie, an old childhood favourite, and they watched quietly.

* * *

Bob stumbled drunkenly into the kitchen, not noticing the mess. In fact, there was only one thought in his fog filled mind: _'I need more wine.'_ He searched the cupboards, swaying on his feet, and mumbling to himself. His hand slipped off the counter, sending several empty food boxes crashing to the floor, but Bob didn't even notice.

The only thing his brain could comprehend was the fact that there was no alcohol in the house, and that was something he needed to rectify. He was cognitive enough to recognise that.

Using the counter to pull himself up, Bob sluggishly opened the fridge, and took a slice of bread. As he ate it, he squinted around at the filthy kitchen. Something at the very back of mind was telling him that something was wrong, but Bob was too drunk to make sense of it.

Bob washed down the bread with a glass of water, not registering the dirty glass, alcohol the only thought on his mind.

Swaying with drunkenness, Bob headed blindly over to the table and sat down heavily. He set the glass down harder than he intended to, the loud thud making him cringe. There was an open school book on the table, and he stared at it, trying to figure out what it was. Bob knew he had seen one of the those things before. He was sure there was a reason for this book to be where it was, and it slowly dawned upon him, a coherent thought making its way to the front of his brain. Right, Gene and Tina. Right. That was it; he had other kids.

He waited for a moment, but they didn't come out of their room, and so Bob went there. Tina probably knew where his credit card was, and he needed to order more wine.

The room was empty, and Bob blinked. He looked inside Tina's wardrobe, under her bed, even in the drawers, before searching the rest of the house. Tina and Gene weren't in the living-room, nor were they in Gene's room, and when he couldn't find them, Bob instantly sobered up.

“Linda!” he cried, racing to the bedroom. The horrible smell of sweat and vomit hit him for the first time and made him gag, but he went over to the bed, and shook his wife awake. “Lin! Lin, wake up!” he continued to shake her until she rolled over onto her back, her hair messy and greasy, her glasses lopsided.

“Wha-?” she whined, and her breath caused Bob to gag again.

“Lin, I can't find the kids! Gene and Tina aren't here,” he told her, willing his heart to slow down. He found himself so anxious he was unable to keep still, and he kept bouncing on the spot, and wringing his hands. Linda sat up so fast he was surprised she didn't get whiplash.

“What?!” She leapt off the bed, her eyes wide and full of fear, having instantly sobered, as well. “What do you mean?”

“They're not here,” Bob said, grabbing his hair. “I've got no idea where they are,” he admitted, his voice small.

“Okay, okay, okay,” she muttered, beginning to pace. “Where would they have gone? Did they a note?” she asked, and Bob shook his head. “Right, then we've gotta go out there and find 'em!”

"Right,” Bob nodded. “I'm gonna call around, and see if anyone's seen them.”

Without waiting for an answer, he hurried into the living-room, and picked up the phone. He didn't dial Teddy or Gayle; he couldn't deal with them right now. They would just be too much. Instead, he dialled Jimmy Pesto's.

“ _Hello?”_ came Pesto's voice.

“Jimmy, it's Bob Belcher. I was just wondering – have you seen Gene and Tina today?” he asked as calmly as he could.

“ _Uh, no. No, not today. Why?”_

“No reason; I was just wondering,” said Bob, and he hung up before Jimmy could say another word, and dialling his father. He knew it was a long shot, but he had to try.

“ _Hello?”_

“Uh, hi, dad. I was – I just wanted to know when you last came here.” Bob wiped the sweat from his brow.

“ _Why, is something wrong?”_

“It's Gene and Tina; we can't find them. We woke up and they're gone,” said Bob, feeling every inch a terrible father.

“ _I have them; they're here with me.”_

“Wait, are you serious?” Bob gripped the phone so tightly he thought it would break.

“ _Yeah, they're right here.”_

“Oh, thank God! Okay, we're on our way!” Bob hung up again, his knees buckling. “Lin!” he called, his voice rattling. “They're at my dad's.” He couldn't stop shaking.

“Let's go!” Linda appeared as if from nowhere, her bag dangling from her arm.

Bob knew he should be driving, but he didn't _feel_ drunk, and their wallets were empty, so what choice did he have?

The drive to Big Bob's was tense, but it was also filled with relief. Neither Bob nor Linda spoke; instead, they focused on getting there as quickly as they could. Tina and Gene must be feeling so scared and confused.

Arriving at the diner, Bob opened the door to the apartment, only for Linda to accidentally knock him out of the way as she bolted past him.

“Babies?! Kids, it's Mommy!” she cried, running up the stairs, gasping for breath. Gene and Tina appeared at the top of the stairs, along with Big Bob, and she hugged them fiercely. “Oh, you're okay! You're okay!” she cried, kissing them both all over their faces, too emotional to notice how they cringed away from her breath.

Bob's knees buckled when he saw them, and he suddenly felt very weak. He managed to walk over and hug them, too, his breath shuddering.

Big Bob guided them into the living-room, where they sat on the sofa and chairs.

“I'm so glad you're safe,” said Bob. “How did you get here? What happened?”

The kids only looked at their grandfather, and Bob and Linda followed.

“I came over, and once I saw what the house looked like, I brought them here,” Big Bob admitted. “I tried to wake you,” he added.

“Why didn't you call, or leave a note?” asked Bob. That was what he couldn't comprehend; why did his father have to literally strike fear into his heart? He didn't get it.

“I had to wait and see how long it took you to notice.” Big Bob sighed. “Maybe the kids should stay here with me for a while.”

“No!” Bob snapped. “It was only a few hours!” Okay, he and Linda had been drinking a lot (okay, more than a lot) lately; he could admit that. But was that really reason enough to do this?

“Bob, they've been here for two days,” said Big Bob, and Linda suddenly felt like she was falling. How had it come to this? They were terrible parents. “I didn't call because I had to see. You know it's May, right?”

“That can't be right,” said Linda, her eyes wide, and full of shame. “No, that can't be!”

“It's May, Mom,” said Tina in a small voice, and Linda shook her head, reeling.

“No, no; it hasn't been that long. That's impossible.”

“Look,” Big Bob sighed and got off the sofa. He stood facing them. “In the nicest possible way, you've got to pull yourselves together -”

“Oh, how dare you,” Bob spat. “How _dare_ you. What makes you think that you can just tell us -”

“I understand what you're going through,” said Big Bob, but his son was too incensed to listen.

“My baby is dead!” Bob screamed, tears pooling in his eyes. “Don't say you understand, because you don't! You've never lost a child!”

“No, but I lost my wife.”

Upon hearing that, Bob was floored; he had never even thought about that, thought about it from his dad's perspective. “I had to watch her slowly leave day by day.” Big Bob hesitated, looking at his family. “I'm saying this with love; I know you're grieving, but you have two other children who need you, and you need to be there for them. Just like I needed to be there for you,” he looked straight at Bob. “I wasn't there for you when you needed me, and nothing can make up for that,” he said to his son, who could only stare at him. None of them could think of what to say. Bob tried not to think about his mother too much – that is, the thin, sickly, weak thing she had become toward the end. Hearing his father mention it was like Bob was hearing it for the very first time, and he wondered if he had subconsciously blocked it out.

“I don't understand it,” said Linda eventually. “She should be here, my baby should be here, and she's not, and I don't understand why she isn't here. I feel like I'm in a nightmare.”

Big Bob nodded understandingly. He definitely knew that feeling.

“Listen, I gotta tell you something, and you're not gonna like it, but you need to hear it. That pain that you're experiencing? That's never gonna go away; it just gets easier to live with. All you can do is learn to manage it.”

That wasn't what they wanted to hear, not at all. It was bad enough that Louise was gone, but they had to feel this terrible and broken for the rest of their lives? Unfair didn't even begin to cover it. “It hurts; people who have never experienced this will never know how much it hurts. You're always gonna miss her, and that's okay. I miss her like crazy. It's okay to be sad, angry, happy; anything, it's okay. But you can't let it take over your life.”

Bob opened his mouth, intending to tell his father why the hell shouldn't he let it take over his life? But then he realised the three reasons he couldn't do that were sitting next to him. They needed each other.

“It's hard,” he admitted, “I can't just go back to normal.”

“No one would expect you to,” Big Bob sat down. “Perhaps this is my fault. We never really mourned your mother. I was so desperate for things to go back to normal, mainly for you, that I just carried on with my routine.”

“I don't know what to do,” Linda admitted. “Nothing makes sense any more.”

“Do you know that they've arrested that boy for manslaughter?” said Big Bob, and they all stared at him, open mouthed.

“What?” asked Bob, and his father nodded.

“Over a week ago. They called me when they couldn't get hold of you. I didn't let you know right away, because I still wanted to give you space, but then you wouldn't answer my calls.”

“Logan's going to jail?” asked Tina.

“Hopefully,” Big Bob told her. “I know his family have already got a lawyer, and you'll need to get one, too.”

“Wait, wait.” This was all too much for Bob. “They've arrested Logan? Why has it taken this long?”

“I don't know. They said something about getting everything together. But they've arrested him, and as he's sixteen now, they're trying him as an adult.”

“Good,” Linda muttered. “He deserves to rot.”

“He does,” Big Bob agreed, “and there's going to be a trial. I don't know when, but they'll keep us updated. If you want, I can try and help you find a lawyer.”

Bob nodded dazedly, his mind more clear than it had been in months. A lawyer, yes. That's what he needed to do. He couldn't allow Logan to get away with this; he needed to be punished. A lawyer; Bob could find one of those, of course he could. Now he knew that he really needed to get his act together, not just for Louise, but for the rest of his family, too.

They spent the night at Big Bob's, with Gene and Tina sleeping in Bob's childhood bedroom, and Bob and Linda curling up in the living-room. Though the kids drifted off rather easily, Bob and Linda felt terrible about what they had done, and were unable to sleep right away.

“Kids, we're so, so sorry,” Linda sniffled the next morning, her eyes red and face wet. Bob sat next to her, looking equally distraught.

“It's okay,” Tina said, not wanting to make them feel any worse than they already did.

“No, it's not,” Linda insisted. “We shouldn't have done this to you; we shouldn't have let it get that far. Well, I promise you, babies, that your dad and I are never going to drink again.” Her eyes, still red, had a look of determination in them. “Things will be different,” she assured them, both herself and Bob pulling their children into a hug.

“It will never happen again,” Bob said. “We're going to be there for each other, and support each other.”

“How?” asked Gene.

“I'm not sure,” said Bob honestly, “but we'll find a way.” At least, he hoped they would. They had to try.

They all knew it was going to be a lot harder than it sounded, but at least they had each other.

Big Bob offered to drive them home, but Bob and Linda declined.

“Listen,” he pulled them both aside before they were due to leave. “I need to apologise, too,” he said. “I'm sorry I wasn't there for you. I didn't want to intrude, but I should have done something sooner.”

“It's all right,” said Bob. “It wouldn't have done any good,” he said honestly. “We needed that kick, and we probably needed to get to that point first.”

“I'll help out more, whenever I can,” Big Bob promised. He gave them a final hug, and then they left, all of them feeling determined.

When they arrived back home, they instantly got to work. Bob and Linda threw out every single drop of wine, and they all pitched in to help clean the house. They swept, they vacuumed, they mopped, they scrubbed and dusted, and wiped, and decluttered until the apartment looked better than it had in years. The only room they didn't touch was Louise's.

“What's all this stuff?” Bob came into the living-room that evening, holding a huge pile of envelopes. “There's packages addressed to us, too.” He couldn't help but wonder if he had been drunk shopping again.

“Those are things that people sent to us. I never opened them,” said Tina.

“Oh. Right.” Bob didn't need to open them to know what they were. “I don't want to read them,” he said, more to himself. He didn't have the strength.

“I'll put them somewhere.” Linda took the envelopes from him, and left the room. She put them all, along with the parcels, up in the attic. Linda told herself that they weren't trying to forget about Louise; they needed time to deal with everything.

* * *

A few days later, the restaurant was open. It was almost just like old times; Bob was grilling, Linda was working the counter, Tina was serving and bussing, and Gene was back in the burger costume, handing out free samples, only without his megaphone this time. But the Burger of the Day board was blank, and Linda no longer sang or greeted new customers enthusiastically.

Bob and Linda had quit cold turkey; those first couple of days had been the worst, they had actually been shaking with the withdrawal symptoms. But the pain of that was slowly easing, and they found that throwing themselves into work provided a great distraction.

It was very busy; Teddy and Mort were there, of course, both of them sat at the counter. In fact, there were so many people that Gene had to come inside to help run food.

Bob could only remember a handful of times when it was this busy. He remembered longing for days like this, to be making money hand over fist, with several patties on the grill in front of him, rather than the usual one or two. But he was just going through the motions; it was all muscle memory, anyway, and there was no longer any joy in it for him. He'd give all this money and business up in a heartbeat to have Louise back.

They had many customers whom they recognised; Gretchen, Randy, Nat, among many they had never seen before. It was obvious these strangers wanted to talk about Louise, but Bob and Linda had told their kids that anyone asked them anything inappropriate, then they were free to tell them to leave.

All day, the family kept waiting for that maniacal cackle, the sarcastic insults, the groans and growls when she could no longer get away with not working, but they never came.

None of them bothered to put on a smile; they were polite and attentive, and that was good enough, and screw anyone who dared to complain about the service.

* * *

“Are we ready?” asked Bob, a few weeks later, as he locked up the restaurant, and his family nodded. “Let's go, then.”

In silence, they walked to the car, and made the drive to the Seymour's Bay Community Centre. Outside the door was a large sign which had the words “Charity Lip Synching Competition Tonight” written on it. There was already lots of people heading inside, flashing lights could be seen from the windows, and loud pop music could be heard.

The Belchers stared at the sign, trying to work up the strength to go inside. They eventually managed to get out of the car, and they walked towards the building. This would mark one of the first times any of them had left the house since Louise had been buried, barring school, of course. It seemed silly, but Bob and Linda couldn't help wondering if things had changed. Everything had changed for them, but what about everyone else? It felt weird to see people go about their usual lives; didn't they realise that the whole world had stopped?

They were the only ones who didn't have to pay; Bob and Linda wouldn't have cared either way, but others felt that it didn't seem right to make them pay towards their own child's memorial garden. As they stepped inside, Teddy approached them, giving them each a hug. He'd been rather quiet lately, as though he was afraid of saying the wrong thing and upsetting them, but he still turned up to the restaurant every single day.

“Hey, Teddy,” said Linda, forcing herself to smile, as they walked further into the room. There were dozens of round tables covered in white cloths, decorated with confetti, and pink napkins were laid neatly over the white china plates. In the middle of each tables was a large LED candle, and a small vase filled with pink flowers.

At one end of the room was a stage, which took up most of the wall, and had a backdrop of black velvet curtains. The lights from above shone multi-coloured shapes over them every so often, and there was a DJ next to the steps. Olsen Benner was there with her cameraman, and they were setting up their equipment. Tina hoped desperately that she wouldn't speak to them.

Clusters of pink and green balloons adorned the room, and against the wall opposite the stage, was a long buffet table, filled with treats and snacks.

“It looks.. nice,” said Bob, looking around, trying not to make eye contact with anyone.

“Yeah,” said Linda, taking his hand and squeezing it.

They made their way over to one of the front tables, the one which had a reserved sign on it, where they sat down. The room was rapidly filling with more and more people, but the Belchers didn't look at any of them, instead focusing on the empty stage. Bob didn't want to accidentally make eye contact with anyone, in case they came over to talk. He didn't think he could handle it.

None of them had bothered to dress up, although a lot of the others had a little bit. But the Belchers didn't see the point, and had arrived in their everyday clothes. Bob realised he hadn't been paying attention that morning, and had accidentally used one of Linda's belts; hers had always been much longer than his, for some reason.

Big Bob and Gayle arrived, and hugged them all, before taking a seat.

Teddy brought them drinks; water for Bob and Linda, and Cokes for the kids, while he himself nursed a lemonade. That was what you did when your friends quit drinking, right? You supported them by quitting with them, so as to not let them relapse. At least, that was what he had heard.

After what felt like several hours, everyone had finally arrived, and Mr Frond stepped on stage to applause.

“Good evening, everybody,” he began. “I'm Phillip Frond, and I'm the Wagstaff school counsellor. We're so happy you could all join us tonight. Every cent raised will go towards the Louise Belcher Memorial Garden. In just a moment, our first act will come out and perform; we have special numbered raffle tickets that you can purchase for a dollar a strip, which will go towards voting. If you look to the back, we're also selling noise makers and party horns for fifty cents each, to encourage and support the performers.” Frond waited while the crowd applauded once again. “There will also be prizes for first, second, and third place. Let's do our best to make this a fun and great night, and please welcome our first performer – Rudy Stieblitz!” Frond led the applause and stepped off stage, and Rudy walked up to the microphone. He was wearing a long, black, curly wig, and he smiled nervously.

As the performers were all encouraged to dress up – the more accurate, the better – Rudy was also wearing a blue dress (really his mother's shirt) with a large belt, but his normal shoes; heels would be a disaster waiting to happen.

It wasn't until the music began that Bob recognised who Rudy was dressed up as, and he attempted to smile as Rudy began to mime to “Love Is In Control” by Donna Summer. He didn't know Rudy had become a fan.

Despite his asthma, Rudy proved himself to be a very capable and funny lip syncher. He had the hand movements and facial expressions down to a T, and the crowd went wild for him. Many of them had run over to the back table and purchased horns and noise makers, which they then used enthusiastically.

Rudy even threw in a few dance moves, taking the microphone out of the stand, and moving about the stage. His robot wasn't half bad, actually. He finished by raising both arms dramatically, and nodding at the audience, a big smile on his face.

“ _Thank_ -” he paused to use his inhaler, “- you.” Rudy got his breath back, as Frond returned to the stage.

“Rudy Stieblitz, everyone!” he cried, and more cheering arose. “Our first act of the night! If you wanna vote for him, then buy the raffle tickets marked 'number one'!”

“Whoo! Go, Rudy!” called someone from the crowd, and Rudy smiled again, before stepping offstage.

“And now for our next act; real double trouble, these ones,” Frond joked, and the audience laughed politely. “Please welcome Jimmy Pesto Jr. and Zeke Carson!”

Dressed in identical leather fringed jackets, and matching wild 80's wigs, Zeke and Jimmy Jr. ran out onto the stage, pumping their fists.

“Y'all ready to rock?!” yelled Zeke, holding his inflatable guitar over his head, and the audience whooped. “Good! Let's get this party started!”

The instant the music started, everyone recognised the song, and many of them got to their feet, clapping. After all, was there anybody who _didn't_ know “Livin' on a Prayer”?

The two boys completely rocked the stage; they played their air guitars like their lives depended on it, and headbanged to the very appreciative audience. Jimmy Jr. danced his heart out, adding some basic breakdancing moves in, while Zeke kicked and jumped his way across the stage

By the time the song had ended, they were both out of breath, but they looked pleased with themselves.

“I think we're all out of breath after watching that!” said Frond as he came back up on stage, and the crowd whooped and cheered. “Zeke and Jimmy Jr., everyone!”

After a few more acts – including Tammy and Jocelyn miming and dancing to “Single Ladies” by Beyoncé – it was time for the interval. This was the part the Belchers were dreading. People were going to come up to them and talk to them about Louise. Logically, they knew they were going to have to interact with others sooner or later; they couldn't hide away forever, tempting though it was. They were just not ready at that point in time. So, they remained at the table, nursing their drinks, staring at their cups.

“So, uh, who's your favourite so far?” asked Teddy after a few moments' silence.

“I think Rudy's been the best one so far,” said Bob, not taking his eyes from his water.

“I liked Jimmy Jr. and Zeke,” said Tina quietly.

“I don't know who I'm gonna vote for,” Teddy said, casting a look around him. He saw Marshmallow approach out of the corner of his eye, and he shook his head slightly. She nodded respectfully, and moved away.

The Belchers and Teddy each purchased a strip of raffle tickets, trying to feign enthusiasm in the act.

“Why don't we keep it a secret?” Linda suggested, her voice dulled. “That way, it'll be more interesting when we see who the winner is.”

“Okay.” Gene turned his tickets face down, and resumed staring at the stage, the lighting detailing the circles under his eyes.

Tina tapped her fingers against the table, her eyes darting about. She recognised so many people, but she really, really didn't want to speak to anyone. But then she saw two people that made her stop and stare – Tim Butler and Charlie Wilkins. She didn't think they would be here.

“Tina?” Linda had noticed Tina staring, and she turned around to see what her daughter was looking at. “Oh.” Now, Linda was staring.

One by one, the rest of the family turned and looked, all of them silent as they gazed at the two men who had given up five days of their lives to comfort Louise.

Tim and Charlie were by the stage, talking to Mr Frond. Bob wanted desperately to talk to them, but he also didn't, and he continued to stare, holding his glass tightly.

As if they could sense they were being watched, the two policemen turned around and caught the Belchers gaze, and then they approached.

“Hello,” said Tim quietly.

“Hi,” Bob choked, his grip on the glass tightening.

For a moment, none of them spoke. What could they say? To Tim and Charlie, nothing seemed appropriate. 'How are you?' ' You're looking well.' They couldn't say that, but Tim thought he must say something, and so he opened his mouth. “Thank you,” said Bob, before Tim could say anything. “Thank you for being there for her. I know she appreciated it.”

Linda squeezed his hand, and Bob squeezed hers back.

Again, the two policemen were lost for words; they could hardly say 'no problem', or 'it was nothing'. Charlie suddenly remembered the two of them telling jokes to stop Louise from crying, and he knew he wouldn't ever forget her bossing everyone around.

“We're glad we could help in some small way,” said Charlie quietly.

Of course, nobody could have known just how comforting it was for Louise to hear consistent, reassuring voices during her ordeal. It had given her some sense of familiarity, and the fact that they had always been there had helped her a lot. Louise may not have shown it, but she had been truly grateful for Tim and Charlie.

Linda, unable to meet their gaze, only nodded in their direction.

“We hope the garden can be installed soon,” said Tim. The local police station had made a donation to the fund, but several of the officers were donating individually by attending the competition.

“Us, too,” said Bob, staring over their shoulder. God, he really wished he was at home right now, with a beer. He held his glass even tighter; he didn't need a drink, he _didn't_ need a drink. The event would be over in less than two hours, and then they could go home. They didn't have to hang around and socialise; they could just get up and leave. Just two more hours; 120 minutes.

Though it might be selfish, Bob couldn't wait for that moment. It wasn't as though he didn't appreciate what everyone was doing; he truly did, he just didn't know how much longer he could stay in this hall before it became too much.

“All right, everybody!” called Mr Frond at the end of the night, after the rest of the acts had performed. Those ten minutes when the judges – Mort, Nat, and Critter – tallied up the scores, had been agonising for the Belchers, as it was another passage of time when people wanted to approach them, and all they could do was sit and stare, and hope nobody else spoke to them. “I'm pleased to announce that tonight we have raised... $427 for the garden!” he cried, and the crowd whooped in delight. “And now, for our winners. The scores have been counted, and we have the top three acts right here!” He waved a sheet of paper, and the audience fell quiet. “In third place... Millie Frock!”

Millie, who had given a dramatic, emotional performance of “Wind Beneath My Wings”, walked up onto the stage to applause and cheering. She gave a watery smile as she was presented with a $10 gift certificate to Moo's Clues. “Thank you, Millie!” Frond applauded her off the stage. “Great job. And in second place... Zeke Carson and Jimmy Pesto Jr.!”

Whooping and fist pumping, the two boys raced to the stage, grinning widely. The two of them were given a $20 gift certificate to Moo's Clues, which they were very pleased with.

“Love it! Thanks, y'all!” Zeke yelled, before leaping off the stage, followed by Jimmy Jr. The audience had to laugh at their enthusiasm, bar the Belcher family.

“Okay,” Frond chuckled, stepping back into the centre of the stage. “Okay, and the winner is... Rudy Stieblitz!”

Again, the crowd cheered and clapped as Rudy came up onto the stage, and was given a small, plastic, golden trophy, and a gift certificate to Fro-Yo Mama. He gave a polite nod and smile to the audience before heading back to his seat.

After Mr Frond had thanked everyone who had contributed, be it prizes or decorations or music, the event was officially over, and the music started up again.

As soon as it had, the Belchers, Big Bob, Gayle, and Teddy all stood and quickly left the room without speaking to anyone. Some might call it rude, perhaps, but anyone who would say that wasn't someone the Belchers cared to know. They needed to get out of there. They'd already made a huge hurdle, and it had drained them. Nobody could blame them for wanting to get away.

Once they had made it outside, they finally felt like they were able to breathe. The room had been almost stifling, and it wasn't due to the amount of people crammed inside. None of them spoke, but they headed to the car as quickly and quietly as they could, desperate to go home.

Outside the apartment, Big Bob and Teddy gave the family a final hug, before they left to go their separate ways.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've said it before, and I'll say it again; Zeke is a saint.  
> Hopefully the Belchers can start to try and rebuild their lives now.  
> I'd love to know what you thought :)

**Author's Note:**

> Yep. Told you it was going to be sad.  
> Regarding the summary, if you read "A Cry in the Park," in chapter 4, Louise does say "daddy," but doesn't speak after that.  
> As it's me, this is going to be another long story, so I will understand if some of you choose to back out now, given the subject matter. No spoilers, but it won't be all doom and gloom; I've done my best to add some balance with some light-hearted moments.
> 
> I'd love to know your thoughts.


End file.
